


Reversal of Fortune

by Agent66



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Gen, Intrigue, Murder Mystery, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4371317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent66/pseuds/Agent66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine diplomatic mission goes astray as the crew of the Enterprise finds themselves tangled in a mystery that could turn the tide of war. While their captain sits in Starfleet's penitentiary, the senior staff starts to dig deeper. But the deeper they go, the more mysterious and troublesome things get...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Agent 66 here, with this my first posted TNG fic. 
> 
> This idea came to me after going on a very long marathon of Star Trek movies and the show in generation, but real inspiration came from the movies The Undiscovered Country, First Contact, and Insurrection, with a little of DS9, the Dominion War, and some of the books thrown in for good measure.
> 
> You will of course need to be familiar with the above movies and most of The Next Generation tv show; not so much Deep Space 9, but you do need to be aware that during First Contact through Nemesis I believe, there was a war with the group known as the Dominion and that they were pretty much laying waste to many of the planets in the Federation. I'll add references at the end of chapters if you're curious to know where some of the ideas and things come from.
> 
> As with all of my fictions, flashbacks are done in italics, so these first few chapters we'll be going back and forth between the present and the past.

##  **PROLOGUE**

The grounds of Starfleet Headquarters sat quietly nestled against the backdrop of the famous Golden Gate Bridge of San Francisco, California on the planet of Earth. 

The city was still trying to regain some of its former glory and rebuild after the devastating attack by the Breen only a few months ago. The war with the new and deadly combination of the Founders, the Cardassians, the Jem’Hadar, and the Breen - now recognized as the Dominion - had taken a high cost from Starfleet and that of the Federation itself. 

An impressive effort had been taken on rebuilding not only the bridge, but that of Starfleet Headquarters, which had been the primary target of the attack. The destruction that had been wrought to the city and that of the whole planet was still tangible. The very idea that the Federation’s main organizational headquarters could be hit with such ferocity worried other states and other countries. 

As for the famous bridge itself, the northern end was still a tangled mess of cabling, wires, and iron despite the opposite southern end starting to look as it had been at one time. 

The grounds of Starfleet had been cleaned up – wreckage from downed buildings had been carted away, bodies of those that had been killed had been taken off to the morgue to hopefully be identified, holes that graced the ground were slowly being filled in by the trees, hedges, or buildings that used to stand there. It had been an attack that no one had been prepared for; oh, there had been threats from their enemies, but even the fiercest of opponents had never brought upon the sight that greeted visitors as they arrived. 

The Breen and their backers of the Dominion had been bold, much too bold, then what Starfleet and others had thought. The Federation had never been attacked the way the Dominion had attacked them. 

And though the galaxy seemed to be at peace for a short time, while both sides considered their options during the lull, it was not peaceful within Starfleet Headquarters. 

Aside from the waging war, there were still conflicts with other groups, other planets that had nothing to do with the Dominion, that still needed to be addressed; there were still paths of their own officers and staff that needed to be looked at. It was during this lull that Starfleet had to show that in spite of the recent horrors, they were still a force to be reckoned with; that they still took their duties to heart and head. 

It was this attitude that saw a wide variety of internal inquiries and trials during a course of two weeks. There had been a string of serious and questionable actions that had happened to a number of those assigned ships that traversed the universe, even those that were not involved in the Dominion War effort. Because of the distraction of the war, the admiralty and other officials hadn’t been able to keep a check on some of those ships that weren’t involved or worse, bestowing on them instructions that would put the Federation at more of an advantage. 

Whatever the cost. 

This course of action was in direct conflict with what the guidelines and rules of Starfleet and the Federation had set up all those centuries ago. But it was a time of war and in war, _everything_ must be done in order to preserve the sanctity of what they were fighting for. 

In those two weeks, a total of three court martials had taken place within the halls of the damaged organization’s offices; one of those trials was against a member of the admiralty and a second against a lieutenant commander. Both had supposedly acted in the interest of the Federation and while their actions were a bit suspect, it had been done to garner the help that the United Federation of Planets needed. 

The third court martial was one of particular interest to just about anyone who had heard about it. There were very few times when several defendants stood trial for crimes against Starfleet and that of the Federation and a unique situation where an entire starship crew was held on trial. 

This court martial was one of the most sought after, where spectators clamored for news on what was happening. Most trials were usually held in closed court and this one was no different; security had managed to maintain a secure perimeter to keep out reporters and others from sneaking or getting information that needed to be kept secret. 

The charges that were leveled against the crew were harsh, insinuations that could easily end careers. While speculation ran rampant and charges of other incidences came forth, only seven people were charged and at present, only one of those stood at the defense table. 

The room they stood in was small, allowing only Starfleet personnel within the seats that were placed behind the crux of the courtroom. Two tables were placed in front of the pews, the prosecution on the left and the defense on the right, while another table sat at the very front, facing the room at large. 

Beside the front facing table was a solitary chair, meant for the testifying witnesses, in this case those that stood accused and that of their accusers. The three members of the admiralty that sat at the larger table had spent the majority of those two weeks just hearing this particular case and today, an agreement had been made. 

“Will the accused please rise?” boomed the voice of Admiral Jordan Peters. Peters was an opposing figure, standing at over six feet tall, with blond hair that was fading and graying in a buzz cut, and grey eyes that could bore a hole through someone if they looked at him wrong. 

Being the senior official on this panel, Peters had the task of laying down the verdict once it had been reached by all three members. There only need to be a 2 to 1 in favor of one side for a sentence to be handed down and in this case, a decision had actually come to them in terms of how they would proceed. Careers were on the line here, careers of the top of Starfleet, and with some trepidation, an example needed to be made. 

No one could be above the law. 

There had been seven defendants in this case, all serving as the top brass on one of Starfleet’s most impressive and important starships; only the captain of the vessel stood at the defense table, as he was the last one to be brought to the stand. His junior officers stood directly behind him, rising from the chairs that had been placed there purposefully. 

“Admirals Blair, Fora, and I have reached a decision in this matter,” Peters continued. “On the charge of treason, assault, attempted murder, and murder in the first degree, we hereby find Lt. Commander Worf, not guilty.” 

The Klingon known as Worf, son of Mogh and honorable member of the house of Martok, visibly let go of the tension and stress that was coiled inside him. He had already gone through a dis-commendation from the Klingon High Council and fought his way back to regaining that; for obvious reasons, a serious mark on his Starfleet record would deliver quite the blow. 

“Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge,” Peters proceeded. “On the charge of treason, assault, sabotage on a Federation or Starfleet vessel, attempted murder, and murder in the first degree, we hereby find you not guilty.” 

Like Worf, the chief engineer visibly sagged in relief, his blue eyes closing with a sigh. While he knew the charges were bogus and certainly he disputed and vehemently denied them, the fact that he was being charged at all hurt him deeply. 

He was a Starfleet brat, growing up with all the regulations, laws, and technology that the Federation had offered him and his family. His mother was in Starfleet, his father was in Starfleet, and while his sister didn’t hold a rank, worked within Starfleet operations. 

Turning slightly, Geordi could see his father, Edward, in the crowd and like his son, was equally happy that the verdict had been in favor of the chief engineer. 

Only those close to the accused and those involved within the matter had been allowed within the room, most being some part of Starfleet. Some of the crew of those accused had either been asked or had shown their loyalty to show up and support their comrades. Because of this, only those that were directly affected were allowed inside, keeping the number small to keep order. Even the co-defendants decided that they would stay for the entire course of the trial, allowing for their sentences to be read with the others. 

So there they sat – the chief medical officer, who sat directly behind the captain, the first officer, the ship’s counselor, the former security chief, the second officer, and the chief engineer – all accused and all rallied behind each other, their crew, and their captain. They had been in dire straits before, but it had never come to this. It had come _close_ , but never this. But again, luck seemed to be on their side. Already, two of them were in the clear; just five to go. 

“Commander Deanna Troi, on the charges of treason, assault, attempted murder, and murder, this court finds you not guilty. 

“Dr. Beverly Howard Crusher,” Peters rolled on. “On the charges of treason, assault, medical misconduct, attempted murder via medical misconduct, and murder in the first degree, this court finds you not guilty.” 

Luck was most definitely on their side. Four of their number were found not guilty, though this would certainly follow them for the rest of their careers, if it didn’t tarnish what they had already. This point in the proceedings was crucial, as only the three senior most officers were left. If they were found anything but not guilty, their careers - and for one his life – and futures in Starfleet would be over. 

“Lt. Commander Data…” 

Upon hearing his name, the android officer literally gulped. This should have been a case in which he would keep the emotion chip that he had installed deactivated, that he would approach this with the logical calmness of a Vulcan and he had, at least during his own testimony. 

Having the chip activated while he spoke would have only led to trouble; which it of course had, as he had been ordered to turn it back on. He’d had the chip for several years now and while he had gotten a handle on the new feelings that would coarse through him, there were times where he felt he would be completely overwhelmed. 

This court martial was one of those times. 

For Data, his career in Starfleet wasn’t the only thing in jeopardy should he be found guilty – his very life could depend on the outcome. He had done this once before, stood in an inquest, pleading for his very sentience as a living being. He had made a monumental stride for artificial life forms that were not a part of the human view of the galaxy and for that, he may be spared. 

However, his logical mind – created with neurons and electrodes – knew there could be a very real chance that he could be sent to the Daystrom Institute, a chance for their scientists to discover how his creator made him, how he worked, and how – if possible – they could make more of him. They would sight it as trying to figure out how he could have malfunctioned in such a way in regards to murder, but everyone involved was pretty sure of the above, and truer, reasons. 

“On the charges of treason, assault, sabotage on a Federation or Starfleet vessel, attempted murder, and murder in the first degree, we hereby find you not guilty.” 

Like his colleagues before him, the second officer seemed to sag in relief, going so far as to lean forward on the railing. Geordi, who stood next to him, clapped him on the shoulder in congratulations. 

Five down, two to go. 

“Commander William T. Riker,” Peters said, turning a look to the first officer. 

You had to be a newbie within Starfleet to not have heard about Will Riker and that of his position as the first officer of the Enterprise. Peters knew him by reputation, having seen his name for promotion several times – five if he remembered correctly – and several times hearing that he had turned down his own command in order to stay aboard the flagship of the fleet. 

Riker of course wasn’t the only one; only Beverly Crusher had actually left the ship, only to come back a year later after heading up Starfleet Medical at headquarters. As part of the admiralty, Peters was quite aware that promotions had been offered to the senior staff and that each time, they had all turned them down. Even her captain had turned down a posting as admiral in order to continue on his ship. 

They all had futures, futures that would take them even further than they were now. 

“On the charges of treason, assault, attempted murder, and murder in the first degree, we hereby find you not guilty.” 

They were home free, that was nearly assured with Riker’s acquittal. Only one person left. 

That person was Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the USS Enterprise, and the only member of the crew who still sat at the defense table. The Frenchman would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved at the decisions that were passed. This whole incident made no sense and it was wrong for them to be accused. However until they could find the evidence to prove their innocence, he and his crew would have to endure what he considered to be a mockery of justice. 

Oh, he couldn’t really blame the Orosians, they were using and following the evidence that they had and it certainly was not in their favor. But there was something else going on, something under the surface that they weren’t aware of yet and the only way they would find out would be if none of them were sitting in a Starfleet secured brig. 

And Jean-Luc Picard was not going to let that happen. 

He knew his duty and he was going to perform it to the best of his abilities. 

“Captain Jean-Luc Picard,” Peters began, his voice even stronger now that the last of the defendants would hear his sentence. “As a Starfleet Captain and a defender of the United Federation of Planets, I do not need to tell you the duties that befall someone in your position. As captain, you are responsible for the lives and safety of your crew; you are also responsible for their actions. 

“On the charges of treason against Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets, for overseeing, allowing, and/or contributing to the assault of several members of your crew, the attempted murder and  first degree murder of several members of your crew, the murder of Ambassador Rilos and his aids, including your actions to keep these acts, as well as several acts of sabotage and medical misconduct aboard your ship hidden or perpetrating in keeping these acts hidden or secret, this court finds you guilty. On all charges.” 

It took only seconds before the roar of protests reached his ears and only seconds before a lieutenant came by and placed handcuff on his wrists. In his heart, he was proud of this moment; of course, they would be upset and of course, they would probably never know why he had done what he had, but the fact that they were outraged on his behalf lightened him. 

Which was why he had to put on the stern face of a commanding officer when he turned to face them. 

“That is enough!” he exclaimed, silencing all six in one swoop. He knew they would only listen to reason if he was the one to say it. They wouldn’t like it, but when had they always agreed that they needed to like what he said? And to their credit, their faces full of righteous fury and indignation, they none the less stopped and listened. 

“You are Starfleet officers and you will act like it,” he continued, sweeping his gaze past them all. “I need not tell you my reasons, but there _are_ reasons for this. I have given you time.” His voice lowered, as did his reprimand. “Someone needs to find the truth in this matter and now you are free to do so. If there is one thing you should remember from our time together, it is there is _always_ hope.” 

And with those parting words, Captain Jean-Luc Picard was led away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References: Deep Space 9 - Dominion War (seasons 3-7) episodes The Search, part II, The Changing Face of Evil; The Next Generation - Sins of the Father, Measure of a Man; movies - Star Trek Generations, Star Trek First Contact, Star Trek Insurrection


	2. Chapter I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of the Enterprise-E get derailed by a diplomatic mission for the Federation's war effort with the Dominion.

##  **Chapter I**

_The Past_

_The Sovereign-class starship that had been christened the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-E glided swiftly through space, on its way to Starbase 97, which was centered close to the border line of the both the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants of the galaxy. The war with the group known as the Dominion had been cooling down only slightly, though the attack by the Breen on Starfleet Headquarters had been a defining point._

_It was rare that any ships strayed so close to the Gamma Quadrant these days, but any possible intelligence that could be gleamed, that could turn the tide of war was worth it to some people. That was one of the reasons the Enterprise-E was being sent to this part of the galaxy._

_Normally holding a distinction of being an exploring vessel, since the start of the war and that of the previous ship’s destruction, the focus from the Federation had been about building ships that could hold their own and win against the onslaught of Cardassians, Jem’Hadar, and even Klingons._

_The quest to explore other systems, to boldly go where no one had gone before, seemed a lifetime ago and had the horrible pallor that those days would never come again._

_As the newly named flagship of the fleet, the Enterprise-E and her crew were still getting used to using their secondary skills as diplomats, speaking with those worlds and those people who were directly threatened by the Dominion. It was hard to reach everyone, especially when the Federation was spread so thin._

_The Dominion’s presence had far reaching consequences and it was only just that the restarted war with the Klingon Empire had ceased and there was an uneasy peace between the two parties for the moment. The attack on Starfleet Headquarters had delivered a hard blow, as did losing many a ship and officer in the battles past._

_Worlds that were a part of the Federation were either threatening to leave or had done just that, not feeling as though those that were sworn to protect them were actually doing so. It was only recently that planets were able to be liberated from Dominion control and those were only because officers who were from those worlds had branched out to saved them. Even with those victories, they were small compared to the overwhelming odds that the enemy presented._

_Captain Jean-Luc Picard didn’t believe that hope could ever be lost, even when the situation was deemed a total loss. An explorer and historian by heart, the captain knew there had to be a way to save the Federation and the planets and people that made up the organization. He had received his orders just the night before – that the ship was to head to Starbase 97, where they would meet a governing body of Orosians. They had just been invited to join the Federation when the war with the Dominion had begun and with their location so close to the Gamma Quadrant, half of the planet was now under Dominion rule._

_As a renowned diplomat, Picard and the Enterprise crew had been sent here and there to try and talk the Federation out of an even bigger mess – the withdrawals of several thousand members. The loss of the Klingon Empire had been a great blow and while the Federation had always been wary of the Cardassians, it had never come to such a head like it was now. Picard certainly didn’t mind being sent to placate a few leaders and what not, however he was growing increasingly disillusioned with the experience and he knew the crew was feeling the same thing._

_The Enterprise had of course gotten into scraps with enemies before – certainly their latest scrimmage with the species of the Baku and S’ona was testament to that – but at the core, the crew were explorers, made to seek out new life, make first contacts, and find new wonders within the galaxy. They could not do that if they were trying to keep the Federation from falling apart._

_For now, his duty for the moment was to head off to inform his senior staff of their new orders._

_The Enterprise-E was almost an entirely different beast than that of the Enterprise-D. It had taken Picard nearly three months to finally learn the way to and from his quarters, once again on Deck 8 thankfully, to that of his ready room and the bridge. He thought he had lucked out actually, being able to keep his quarters on the same level that he had on the D, as others moved around._

_If his chief engineer hadn’t worked on the ship while it had been docked, he probably wouldn’t remember where his new quarters were located (though Picard was sure even Geordi La Forge had managed to get lost once or twice)._

_Stepping through the doors of the observation lounge, Picard could already hear a discussion taking place, some friendly bantering between colleagues and friends. He stopped within the archway, partially hidden by the shadows and just watched._

_From where he stood, he could only make out the side of his second officer, Lt. Commander Data, and the back of his first officer, Commander Will Riker, however he could hear the voices of the others – chief medical officer Beverly Crusher, chief engineer Geordi La Forge, and ship’s counselor, Commander Deanna Troi._

_“That is not what happened!” came Troi’s voice, tinged with a laugh at whatever it was they were discussing._

_“Sure,” chuckled Riker. “Pull the other one.”_

_“Data,” Troi said, pleading with the android. “You saw what happened, you were there!”_

_The captain saw Data shake his head. “Do not look at me,” he said. “I do not want to be a part of this. I saw nothing.”_

_“First time I’ve ever seen you chicken out, Data,” came the retort from La Forge._

_“Not going to work,” the android said, crossing his arms across his chest and again shaking his head._

_“Data’s way too smart to walk into a trap like this,” Crusher chuckled. “Even I could see this a mile away.”_

_“Fine,” was Deanna’s huff. “I know when I’m outnumbered. I’ll remember this.” Though Picard couldn’t see it, he assumed the counselor was pointing at Data because she said, “I’ll remember this the next time I have a sundae.”_

_The android responded to the threat in theatrical fashion, covering the area with both hands where his heart would be if he were human. “You wound me, Counselor. Deeply.”_

_Picard stifled a chuckle at the android’s expense. Nearly fourteen years of service together had seen many things change among them. It was always astounding at the growth they had all gone through from that first moment of stepping aboard a famous ship called the Enterprise._

_Obviously Data himself had grown considerably from that first day, an android officer who tried his best to understand the idiosyncrasies of human behavior and its nature._

_Since the installation of the emotion chip that had been given to him by his creator and then stolen by his brother, later retrieved by Data, the android now had the ability to express those feelings and emotions that he, as an artificial life form, did not possess. There was of course some debate on that, as his friends had always felt Data had emotions and could express them, just not in the overt way that humans and other species could._

_Picard had always thought that Dr. Soong had given his last creation the ability to feel and express himself; the chip only enhanced what he already had._

_Not wanting to disturb the friendly banter, the captain none the less cleared his throat, announcing his presence to the others, before heading towards the head of the conference table and taking his seat. As expected, the others turned to him, waiting for their orders._

_Jean-Luc’s eyes scanned his crew; the only one missing was that of Lt. Commander Worf, who was now serving at the space station of Deep Space 9 and a commander of the starship Defiant. It was of course a hard blow when everyone else returned to the Enterprise-E, but they had all wished him well._

_A new journey, that was what Picard had said when he spoke to Worf. He had been offered command of the Enterprise as soon as the inquest into the previous ship had been investigated and he had been found not at fault for its destruction. Once he knew he would be the captain again, he had sent out requests to his senior staff and other officers to return. On all of those requests – over a thousand – only a few had stated they would not return. Those were mostly the ensigns who had come aboard recently or families who had wanted to stay in one place._

_Out of those reassignments, only that of the Klingon security chief had caused him sadness. But…Picard understood. Very few crews stayed together as long as they had; even the original crew of the Enterprise had gone their separate ways in time, coming back together under extraordinary circumstances._

_As a captain, Picard knew there would be times in which he would need to part with his crew, whether in reassignment, leave, or death. He had seen all three of course, but those that affected him the most were the people that had such a profound impact on his own life._

_Tasha Yar, for example, had been a horrible loss, almost as bad as the loss of Jack Crusher years before._

_But, this was the present, not the past, and in the present he needed to tell his crew just what was expected of them. “I’m glad to see you’re all in such a jovial mood,” he began, smiling at them. “Because I’m sure that what I say next will make you all very happy.”_

_“We’re going to explore something,” Riker replied, smiling widely._

_Picard couldn’t help but smile back, knowing that these last few missions of theirs had nothing to do with exploring the galaxy as they trained and hoped for. He would be remiss if he didn’t feel the same way; they were explorers and their missions were of the strategic and militaristic. But in war, there were tasks to be done and this was theirs._

_“I only wish that were true, Number One,” the captain continued, though with a bit of mirth in his tone. “We are to head to Starbase 97, in order to speak to the Orosian governing council.”_

_“A first contact mission, sir?” asked Data._

_“No, Mr. Data,” he informed them. “The Orosians are actually on the waiting list to be brought into the Federation. However, with their planet’s approximation to the Gamma quadrant and that of the Dominion…”_

_“Another planet that wants to secede?” asked Riker, a slight frown on his face._

_“And we get to soothe hurt feelings,” grumbled the chief engineer. “Again.”_

_“Such as the demands of the crew of the flagship to the fleet, Mr. La Forge,” Picard chuckled. “Luckily, there are no hurt feelings to soothe. The Orosians are quite aware that the Federation and Starfleet have our hands full. They would, however, like to offer their assistance.”_

_“Are they able to do that?” asked the counselor. “And if so, why haven’t they offered their help earlier?”_

_“That,” the captain said. “Is what we will most likely find out.”_

_“This doesn’t sound so bad,” La Forge said._

_“Uh huh,” Dr. Crusher grinned, focusing her look on her old friend seated at the head of the table. “What’s the catch?”_

_“Well,” Picard started. “As a typical diplomatic situation in which we will be meeting with delegates from another planet and thus another species, it is of course customary for us to look our best when we are presented.”_

_He could already hear the inaudible groans that were going to take place before they actually did._

_It was far and between that they needed to utilize their formal attire, but it was one of those chores that no one particularly looked forward to. And while their uniforms had changed to something they all thought more suitable and had a better appearance, the task of actually wearing them was always met with reluctance._

_“A banquet.” Riker stated, unhappily._

_“A banquet.” As he knew they would, the others groaned. “Now, now,” he chastised them, all in good humor. “You have all been officers of Starfleet for long enough, you should know exploring isn’t all fun and games.”_

_“Used to be,” grumbled the android that sat on his right._

_“Try to keep your excitement to a minimum,” came the sardonic response._

_“What exactly is our purpose for seeing the Orosians?” Data asked. “Are they considering removing their application for inclusion in the Federation in the case they are unable to provide the help they are offering?”_

_“From my understanding,” Picard began. “And from what Starfleet is aware of, the planet of Oros is only a few light years from the Gamma Quadrant. You can see how the proximity to that of a Dominion controlled area would be of interest to not only the Dominion, but that of the Federation. From what the representatives of the planet have said, the side that directly faces the Gamma Quadrant is now under control of the Dominion.”_

_“So then the other side of the planet is free of Dominion control?” Crusher asked. “Are they alright?”_

_“Apparently, the opposite side is fine,” the captain said. “And they do have preparations in the case that the Dominion should stretch their control into those areas. Our mission is to meet with the delegation in regards to their inclusion in the Federation.”_

_“I hope they know the risk involved,” Geordi stated. “The Federation and Starfleet are stretched thin as it is.”_

_“Even if they are accepted,” Data continued. “There is no guarantee that assistance would come to them in the case of an attack. There have already been numerous occasions in which the Federation was unable to keep a planet from falling into enemy hands.”_

_As soon as he said it, the second officer immediately turned to the ship’s counselor and whispered an apologetic “Sorry.”_

_Deanna gave the android a slight smile and nod. Her home planet of Betazed had been one of those planets that had fallen to the Dominion forces within the start of the war. They had managed to repel forces and free the planet, but there was of course a high toll that had to be taken for that to happen._

_Luckily, Deanna’s mother and her baby half-brother survived, but there were a lot of others that did not._

_“I’m sure that the delegation is aware of all of that, Mr. Data,” the captain responded. “But in case they are not, it will of course be our job to notify them of such.”_

_The discussion then turned to the actual banquet that would be held on the space station. Only senior members of the crew were going to partake, with a large number of security being dispatched not only on the station but that of the Enterprise as well. It was here that Picard sincerely missed his former security chief._

_Not that he didn’t think Lt. Daniels wasn’t doing a good job; the young man had been a new transfer to the Enterprise, but he had shown the same tactical and strategic direction that both Tasha and Worf had demonstrated and demanded from their junior staff._

_However, Daniels was not aboard for this mission, having taken maternity leave for his expectant wife on Earth. His replacement would also be out, as he was currently resting in his quarters due to illness. While these were all good reasons, Picard would have felt an immense sense of satisfaction if Worf was still aboard._

_The rest of the day was spent getting to Starbase 97. It wasn’t a very long trip – Data had estimated that it would only take about five hours to reach the base at the speed of warp six – and it allowed for some downtime for the crew. In these perilous times, who knew when the next moment would take them into battle or harm’s way? As captain of a vessel and one that was the flagship of the fleet, it was his duty to ensure that his crew would be up to the task._

_Picard, though never one to immediately take to having the time off, made himself comfortable within his quarters, a well-read copy of Shakespeare in his hands, and sat down on the couch situated under the window that faced the stars. He didn’t often take to measures of relaxation, especially when on verge of meeting a diplomatic envoy, but he knew that things were well in hand._

_Already, Data and Deanna have given their reports on the Orosians and what they should expect upon meeting the species. Both reports were in depth, especially Data’s, and Picard would only need to actively speak with the Ambassador prior to arriving._

_With reports and plans in hand, Picard had dismissed the senior staff to their own devices. Currently, Beverly sat in his captain’s chair, taking her turn on bridge duty. It was something she did on occasion when there needed to be a senior officer on the bridge and when her role as CMO wasn’t crucial in sickbay._

_Will had expressed his need of practice on his trombone, causing both Deanna and Beverly to ask if a certain song was going to be in that rotation. The commander had retorted that he was speaking of his poker face, as the Betazoid counselor had managed to beat him at last week’s poker game._

_That of course started another round of friendly ribbing and banter, resulting in an impromptu poker game being scheduled for later that day. The captain had, of course, reminded them of their later engagement of the banquet._

_Data and Deanna, he knew, were on one of the holodecks, running either a Sherlock Holmes mystery or one of Alexander’s western stories, he didn’t know which, while Geordi was going to try and catch up on some sleep._

_A small smile graced his face; hopefully this war with the Dominion would be over soon and they could go back to doing what they did best – explore the galaxy. They had done so for nearly fourteen years and he hoped they could continue to do so._

_He couldn’t ask for a better crew or a better set of friends. As the captain, he had no idea what path lie before him and this new crew that was assembled for the newly built Enterprise-E and he certainly hadn’t expected that he would be serving with the same crew for over a decade. He had thought of them as family in the past, in regards to a group of people who had shared much throughout their travels together._

_They had seen life, they had seen death, they had seen hope, and they had seen war. And in the most unlikeliest of circumstances, they had managed to escape a fate that said they should not be together. Even with the loss of Tasha, there was always a part of her that lived on with all of them, of a legacy that continued with her sister and even that of the daughter that was conceived in an alternate reality._

_Dark thoughts of mortality entered his mind, as they often did these days. The deaths of his brother and nephew had left a deep hole within him, one he didn’t think he had completely filled yet. And then to lose the Enterprise-D had only added to that._

_However his trip to the Nexus made him realize that death – even those of the closest kin – hurt and would possibly continue to do so, but it made for changes in life. Picard had often been very standoffish, aloof to building close ties with others, pushing off affections for the moment, assuming they would be there once again._

_But the deaths of Robert and Rene taught him that they wouldn’t. Hadn’t he learned that lesson through their various missions? That life could be lost and that life could be changed in an instant? Well…he had known, but perhaps he had forgotten and then remembered when the events began to play out once more._

_This war only sought to remind him of things that he had forgotten. He hoped that when this war was over, he would not forget again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References: Deep Space 9 - The Dominion War (The Changing Face of Evil), The Way of the Warrior, The Muse; The Next Generation - The Battle, Brothers, Skin of Evil, Elementary My Dear Data, Fist Full of Datas, Decent part I; Books - The Battle of Betazed, Sling and Arrows series - Book III: The Insolence of Office; Movies - Star Trek Generations, Star Trek Insrrurection


	3. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the verdict handed down, the senior staff - minus one captain - try to figure out how to get themselves out of the trouble they're in by going to the holodeck and returning to the scene of the crime.

##  **Chapter II**

The Present 

Numb. 

That’s what she was – numb. 

Or she could be in shock. She certainly wasn’t the only one who had their stomach literally drop at the verdict or even the sight of Captain Jean-Luc Picard being lead off in handcuffs towards a Starfleet brig, a brig that should have held them all. 

Beverly Crusher felt a pain that she hadn’t felt since the death of her husband nearly twenty odd years ago, but she supposed it shouldn’t be too surprising that this feeling was brought by one Jean-Luc Picard. They had gone through a lot together, shared and endured a lot together, but never this. For some odd reason, even the thought of his death didn’t seem like it would hurt her this badly. 

What had gone wrong? 

He had said that he had done this for a reason, for them to discover the truth. But what had he done exactly? Apparently exchange his freedom for theirs. Of all the…ridiculous, self-righteous…what were they going to do? 

It took her a moment to realize that she had said the last bit out loud and she suddenly turned to look at the tall form of Will Riker who stood next to her, his eyes obviously never moving from the door which the captain had been led out. Incidentally, the doctor noticed the others happened to turn to Will too at her question. 

Almost immediately, Will shook his head slightly, admitting the defeat they all felt. However, what he said was completely contradictory to that. 

“We’ll get him out.” 

“Excuse me,” said a voice, interrupting any thoughts Beverly would continue to have at the moment. Standing before them was a young lieutenant, probably with security or a part of the JAG portion of Starfleet. “Commander Riker, Adm. Bishop would like to see you. All of you, in his office. If you’ll follow me.” 

“Great,” La Forge muttered. “What other kind of trouble can we get into this week?” 

“Do not jinx it,” came the stern warning from Worf. 

Riker gave a quick glance to the others before nodding and following the young lieutenant towards Bishop’s office. 

The admiralty of Starfleet usually held their offices near the Academy, but when the planet was attacked, part of the destruction was not only to headquarters itself, but the Academy as well. Because of that and with the reconstruction, some of the offices had moved towards the more administrative areas. That was where the young lieutenant led the group now, several rooms further from where they had all stood trial. 

The officer instructed them to a door once they stopped, letting it shift open and allowing them entrance into the office of Admiral Haynes Bishop. 

Bishop was a veteran of Starfleet, seeing a number of years of service before ascending to the admiralty. Some said the man had been around forever, since even before Starfleet had begun. That was, of course, the talk of the cadets and the ensigns who had seen the man and heard of his career. 

No one knew his exact age and certainly he only looked as though he had just stumbled into middle age. There only seemed to be a touch of grey within the dark brown locks that were on his head, nor did it seem to touch the very manicured goatee that he wore. He was sitting behind his desk, reading through PADDs and checking something within his computer that sat to his left. When the group came to stand at attention before the desk, Bishop took his time addressing them, seemingly finding the PADDs of more interest and more importance. 

Will cleared his throat, garnering the admiral’s attention and causing him to look up at them. “You wanted to see us, Sir?” 

“Yes,” Bishop replied, steepling his fingers together on the desk. “I hope you’re all aware just how very close you came to no longer being in Starfleet. However, even I can see the benefits of keeping good officers like yourselves around.” 

Grabbing a stack of PADDs that sat on his desk, Bishop stood and began handing them out to the group. “Those are your reassignments,” he continued, walking back around his desk and sitting down again. He noticed they all began looking at each other’s PADDs. 

“Don’t bother checking those,” he stated. “None of you are assigned to the same ship and if I have my way, no one from the Enterprise will ever serve on the same starship ever again.” 

The looks of shock, Bishop found, were rather comical in his opinion. “Sir,” Riker began, seemingly reigning in his temper. “If I may be so bold as to ask the merits of that decision?” 

Bishop sat back in his chair and regarded the group. “As you well know,” he said. “The Enterprise and her crew are regarded as the best within Starfleet. That alone, I’m sure, is the reason why the six of you aren’t sitting along with Picard in the brig. Oh, you’re lauded for your deeds and service; there is no dispute about that. But what seems to go unnoticed, however, is the fact that you are irresponsible, insubordinate, and reckless. 

“I don’t think I need to remind you of your last two missions,” Bishop continued. “Both of which Picard and by extension the crew ignored direct orders from Starfleet itself. Oh, you managed to save the timeline of the galaxy from the Borg and saved 600 people…this time. I dare not think about what would happen should you all do that for a next time.” 

“Then why separate us at all?” asked Geordi. “If we’re all so unstable, wouldn’t it be better to keep us all together in one big happy insubordinate family?” 

_Touché, Geordi,_ Riker thought with a smile, though he did shoot a warning glare at the engineer. _Maybe a bit much though._

“I don’t know if any of you are aware,” Bishop said, sarcastically. “But we are at war. We are at war and we are losing. It is in the best interest of Starfleet and that of the Federation that all of our best people make sure we are not completely overrun by the Dominion. What good would it do us if all the best people were killed on one ship? 

“Your assignments put you where we need you, where a presence needs to be seen by those planets within our jurisdiction. In most cases, this wouldn’t be an issue, as you would have been serving on other vessels anyways. 

“Frankly, I’m surprised you managed to stay together as long as you have.” 

“Must be our magnetic personalities,” smirked Data. 

Bishop didn’t find the remark as entertaining. “I’m glad you get enjoyment out of those that are suffering, Commander,” he said, sternly. “You have two weeks to report to your new assignments.” 

“What if we don’t?” asked Beverly, earning a surprised look from Deanna who stood next her. 

“Then you will find yourself behind a desk or worse, Doctor.” 

“Permission to speak freely, Sir?” Data asked. 

“Permission denied.” 

“Why?” 

The android’s tone was bordering on being disrespectful, if it wasn’t already. Riker couldn’t really blame him; it was obvious Bishop was enjoying splitting them up and if he was serious, was going to take pleasure in making sure that they would never serve together ever again. 

“You will do well to watch your tone, Mr. Data.” 

This situation was spiraling out of control, Will was smart enough and experienced enough to recognize that. They weren’t holding the winning hand in this case and any more outbursts like the ones said or being geared up to say weren’t going to do them any favors. The whole thing had been a complete shock, one that they were still reeling and still hurting from. As their commanding officer, he needed to keep things under control, even if he felt that they weren’t. 

“Let it go, Data,” he said, keeping his eye on Bishop. No one was happy, that was evident, and no one would be happy until this whole mess was over and done with. 

“You know,” Bishop continued, leaning back in his chair and looking at each of them. “You all have a lot to learn.” 

“How so?” Worf grunted. 

“Space…is like a playground,” the admiral continued. “There are different attractions, different places, different people all over. You have your cool kids and you have your bullies. The Dominion are the bullies, ready to kick everyone and anything out of the sandbox and off the swings until they have complete control over the playground, the galaxy in this scenario. 

“I bet you like to think you’re the cool kids and that the Enterprise is just one big jungle gym. Granted, it is the flagship and only the best of the best will readily serve on it. 

“But some kids want to play on it and it’s time that you all learn to play on something else. You can defend the structure all day and night and try and block the Dominion from taking it, but at the end of the day, you are all still on it while the other ‘kids’ have been banished or killed on their playthings.” 

“I gotta say admiral,” Will began, not willing to take that assessment lightly. “And I think the others will agree with me, that I take offense at you comparing the galaxy to some playground and that those crews who have faithfully, willfully, and respectfully served their ships and their captains as somehow being or thinking they are better than anyone else in Starfleet. I take great offense at that. Sir.” 

“And that, Commander,” Bishop sneered. “Is why you are still a commander.” 

“Are we done here?” 

Bishop spared them each with one last glare before saying, “Dismissed.” 

The group left the office, keeping their opinions and anger to themselves; at least until they managed to get to the turbo lifts. Almost immediately, everyone went on about their assignments. 

“Notice how we’re at least a hundred light years away from each other?” Geordi asked, taking a look at both his and Data’s PADDs. 

“What possibility would there need to be to get us so far away?” asked Deanna. “That doesn’t make any sense!” 

“This whole _situation_ makes no sense,” Worf replied, gruffly. “While I believe it is in the best interest of everyone to see the Dominion stopped, it is very bad tactical planning to separate a crew that has been known to get…results.” 

“Agreed,” Beverly added. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Bishop just held a grudge and wanted to get us as far away from each other as possible.” 

“But why?” asked Data. “What advantage does the admiral gain by doing so?” 

“What does the Federation gain?” added Geordi. 

“Nothing.” Deanna said. 

The turbo lift doors opened, allowing the group out into one of the main corridors that lead to the outside courtyard. They continued through the lush grass and construction that was going on, a sextet examining reasons as to why they had been spared, but the captain had not. 

Will tried to keep an open ear, but his mind was already whirling with the information they had gotten from Bishop. It was clear from the man’s tone that he didn’t appreciate the Enterprise, nor her crew or perhaps he was envious that he hadn’t been in the captain’s chair; the commander wasn’t sure what the exact issue was, only that he and the others took great offense to it. 

That thinking obviously led to where they were now, leaving a court martial as acquitted men and women and leaving their captain holding the bag. There was something about the whole situation that Will Riker did not like -  there was a mutiny aboard the ship, crewmembers had been attacked and/or killed, and the prominent leader of the Orosians murdered – all at the hands of the ship’s captain and the senior staff. 

There were so many questions that needed to be answered and the most prevalent was why. Why would they do such a thing? What exactly would any of it have accomplished for them individually? Why would they put in jeopardy the very thing that they had come to serve and love? 

“Will?” 

They had come to the front steps, stopped, and were now looking at him to lead the way out of this. Only problem was, Riker had no idea on how to do such a thing. Deanna had spoken, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from going on when the others had stopped. 

“What do we do now?” asked Geordi. 

In the absence of the captain, he was their commanding officer. Above all, he was their friend. In a situation like this, he thought about giving them the words that would lift their spirits, tell them that things would be alright; they would get to the bottom of this. They would find a way, just as they always had. 

But for some reason, that felt like lying. So instead, he was honest. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I can tell you I’m not gonna let this stand. The captain knows something more is going on here; _we_ know something more is going on here.” Looking around and realizing that standing outside, in the open, was probably not the best place to be holding this conversation, Will stepped closer to the group. 

“You all remember where the Fleet Lounge is?” he asked, to which they all nodded. “1900 hours, we’ll meet over there and discuss what we should do next. And it needs to be done on the quick; I figure we have about two weeks before we all ship out for parts unwanted.” 

  


* * *

  


The Fleet’s Lounge had been a staple within Starfleet since the days of the original starship Enterprise, allowing for those successful at completing their cadet training to enjoy the fruits of their labor. It was a rather medium sized bar that also housed a restaurant within the back of the building, with a long bar up front and various sized tables all around the rest of the room. 

Towards the back, at a half booth, half table sat five of Starfleet’s finest. The group hadn’t entered together, at least not all of them at once, but when their arrival _was_ noticed, the bar had gone silent. Starfleet Headquarters, much like that of a ship, had a nasty habit of letting word get around and in most cases the word was never clear or even straight on. 

Word had clearly gotten around that the senior staff of the Enterprise had just been court martialed and that one of them had gone to the brig. Because it was a closed case, there could only be speculation of what the charges were and what had actually happened during the trial. Some bar patrons whispered that there was a mutiny and that the staff had killed those that had tried to take the ship. 

Another story was that the android Data had malfunctioned and murdered a member of the crew. Despite changing the minds of some, the second officer was still seen somewhat as a machine, as something that could turn on them – on the humans – at a moment’s notice. 

Then there was the thought that it wasn’t Data, but _Worf_ who had turned violent. Word about the death of his wife was known, though reports were rather vague. And, coupled with the recent skirmish with the Klingon High Empire, many wondered if Worf wasn’t indeed a spy, working within Starfleet in order to help his own people. 

Their entrance had caused more talk than usual and the quintet had quickly decided that the furthest away they were, the better. 

Once assembled, there had been no talk, just moodiness, as though the reality of the situation and the problem at hand had suddenly come to the forefront. Their careers were still intact, for the moment, but their captain – their friend and mentor – was now sitting in some brig, hoping that they would find the answers to all of their questions. 

The only person that was missing was that of Will Riker, who had sent Deanna ahead to the table while he went to fetch some drinks. Even his normal jovial manner seemed dower than usual, as he made his way over, bringing a tray of dark filled shot glasses to the table. 

None of them were particularly big alcohol drinkers, enjoying it for social or professional reasons; that was why the appearance of six shots was intriguing to the others. 

“What is that?” Deanna asked, raising an eyebrow at the shot she was given. 

“Don’t ask questions,” Will said, giving her a wink before taking his own. “Just drink it.” 

“Is this not how we got into the trouble we are in now?” Data asked, picking up his drink and staring at it. 

“Well, maybe it will help us get out of it,” Will joked. He raised his glass in a mock toast. “Let’s hope this helps jog the memory.” 

The others met his glass with theirs, clicking them together, and then downed the brown liquid. Only Will and Worf seemed to be able to take the strong flavoring, leaving the others gagging. “If I had a heart,” sputtered Data. “It would be attacking me.” 

“I have never liked whiskey,” Beverly muttered. “Whatever made you think to go with this?” 

“Told you,” the bearded man said. “I’m hoping that this will jog our memories.” 

“Commander,” Worf replied. “We have no memories of this event to jog.” 

“There has to be something!” exclaimed Geordi. “This is ridiculous. No one just loses their memory for weeks on end.” 

“There are occasions, Geordi,” Data responded, almost automatically. “In which a person can suffer a traumatic event…” 

“That’s different, Data,” the engineer interrupted. “This…this is…I don’t know.” 

“It would seem as though our situation has no satisfactory end,” the android slumped. “We have lost our ship, our captain, and we have just barely managed to hang on to our careers.” 

They all stared at him. 

“Aren’t you just a pocket full of sunshine?” asked Deanna, sarcastically. 

“I am being realistic.” 

“You’re being morose,” added Geordi. 

“Hey,” Will stated, leaning across the table. “We can’t think like that. We’ve been in worse scraps before…” 

“No, we haven’t,” challenged Geordi. 

“Yes, we have,” the commander gruffly said. “All we need to do is get to the bottom of this. Any ideas?” 

Everyone just shrugged, unsure of what the next step should be. 

“Well…” the android began. “The usual step in a similar situation would be to gather clues and speak to those that were in the area at the time of the event. You know? Question the witnesses.” 

“Unfortunately, _we’re_ those witnesses,” Deanna said. “And we don’t remember anything.” 

“Well then,” Will said. “We’re going to just have to find a way _to_ remember.” 

“How?” asked Beverly. 

“We could set up a mock crime scene within a holodeck,” Data pondered. “Unfortunately, we would need access to a holodeck in order for us to do that.” 

“Could we use the one onboard the Enterprise?” Worf asked. 

“Could we?” Deanna questioned, turning her gaze at Will. “I hardly think they would let us on the ship we’re being transferred off of.” 

“There is the reasoning that we would need to gather our personal belongings in order to move off the ship and onto our reassignments,” Data said. “Security personnel would have to let us aboard, unless we posed a danger to the ship and her crew. Which of course, we do not. Technically.” 

“Okay then,” Will murmured, thinking it over. “That’s what we’ll do. We’ll meet tomorrow morning on holodeck 3 at…0900?” 

“What exactly are we making a crime scene of?” Worf asked. “We do not recall the events in which we were accused; how do we make a scene from something we do not know?” 

“We start at the beginning,” Data said, some of his melancholy seemingly disappearing. The android, like their captain, enjoyed his mysteries and this was certainly one in which they needed to solve. “It seems clear that the precise moment of our memory lapse began shortly after the banquet that was held on Starbase 97. If we start there, perhaps we will be able to track our movements.” 

“Discover if one of us came in contact with someone,” Geordi said, nodding his understanding. 

“Work backwards to move forward,” Deanna added. 

“Precisely.” 

“I wonder if it’s possible for us to get a look at those video files,” Beverly whispered. “That’s the only evidence the Orosians have that we were involved in all this.” 

“I highly doubt that, Doctor,” Data commented. “Defendants are often kept from vital evidence in order to ensure that it is not changed or contaminated in a way that would be favorable to them. It is fairly routine that the prosecution need not share information that could possibly help the defense.” 

Looking at his friends, he continued with, “However, seeing as the trial is officially over, I believe there could be ways in which _I_ could get access.” 

It was unspoken, but the group understood the statement. As an android, Data was able to interface with various computer and information systems throughout the galaxy, allowing him to gain or even place information within the computer itself. 

The very notion that they would basically need to go around regulations for information that would help them and the captain was a bit uncomfortable, even if necessary. 

“Let’s leave that as a last resort,” Riker said. “At least we have a plan and that’s more than we had when we walked in here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References: TNG episodes - Violations; DS9 episodes - Tears of the Prophets; movies - Star Trek III: The Search for Spock


	4. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lt. Commander Worf joins his former crewmates as they meet the delegation from Oros. Meanwhile, Jean-Luc and Beverly remember when they used to be explorers, Data's primping for one of the lower decks, and Deanna is enjoying dressing up for once.

##  **Chapter III**

_The Past_

_It was still strange to be aboard the Enterprise-E. Lt. Commander Worf was still getting used to the new ship, even after he had been aboard several times. Perhaps it was the feeling that he hadn’t served on the ship for some time. His posting at Deep Space 9 was only supposed to be for a short time and yet, he had found himself enjoying his time there._

_He had found another purpose there, after leaving the Enterprise, had found himself at the forefront of a war. He frowned, deeper than the one that had already been on his face when he come aboard the flagship of the fleet and then down to the starbase. The Klingon didn’t know why he was here, why he bothered to come to this…thing._

_He would have much rather stayed on DS9 or on the Defiant, but he knew that wouldn’t work. Sisko had wanted him to take some time off, stating that they were too close to the issue to really be of any help. The loss of Jadzia Dax had hurt Sisko just as much as it had hurt him and Worf would certainly not begrudge the captain his hurt, but his hurt was different._

_He hadn’t wanted to think about K’Ehleyr_ _or Alexander, but he couldn’t help it. The death of Jadzia was just like K’Ehleyr’s, in that their time together had been shortened because of murder. He hadn’t been able to experience the happy life he had wanted together; he and K’Ehleyr should have been raising their son and their additional offspring. Instead, he had to raise Alexander alone and his son was more like his mother than he was like his Klingon father._

_It had been years before they could see eye to eye._

_Alexander should have been the elder brother; he should have younger siblings to protect. And Worf knew that Alexander **would** have protected any sibling he would have had; but that was not to be. Neither K’Ehleyr nor Jadzia would bear him any children, because they had been taken from him. _

_He didn’t want to be here. When Sisko had told him that he should take some time off, Worf had nearly bristled at the notion. Klingons did not take time off and in this sort of situation, Worf did not **want** to take time off. Taking time off meant not having anything to take his mind off…things. He certainly couldn’t stay in his quarters on the space station and with the Defiant destroyed, he didn’t even have that._

_He truly didn’t have a home to go to, so when he had received the invitation to come to this banquet, he had quickly sent a decline to the sender. He should have known that she wouldn’t leave well enough alone, so he hadn’t been too surprised when another invitation showed up. Worf had sighed and booked the passage for Starbase 97, but he wasn’t going to be happy doing it._

_So now he stood, off to the side near the table that had been set up for drinks, and examining just how well the security within the base was. He nodded to those security staff that he knew, enjoying the fact that they knew not to bother him at the moment. If he was lucky, he might be able to escape without anyone even knowing he was here._

_As soon as that thought entered his mind, he immediately chastised himself. The Enterprise had been his home for eight years, had been his extended family for that long as well. It was…dishonorable to think and behave as though he didn’t want to see or have anything to do with them._

_A brief smile crossed his face – it was ironic that his first thoughts of fleeing his heartache were aboard places in space, places where he felt the closest to people._

_Perhaps he would take the time off; he suddenly had an urge to see his parents and his son._

  


* * *

  


_As much as the formality of dress uniforms were, in this event, female officers had the choice of gown or uniform._

_And Deanna Troi enjoyed dressing up._

_She had enjoyed it when she was a little girl, playing with the fancy dresses her mother usually loved to indulge her in. The older she got, Deanna didn’t much enjoy dressing up anymore or rather, she didn’t enjoy the events she was dressing up for._

_Before her acceptance into Starfleet, most of the events that she dressed up for were arranged by her mother and they were usually meet and greets; the kind that usually went “have you met my beautiful and single daughter?”_

_While she would moan and groan with the others in the terms of having to get dressed up in order to speak to someone, Deanna actually liked dressing up, especially if it was an occasion where **she** wasn’t on display._

_Having the option to choose between her own gown and that of the official Starfleet formal wear, Deanna went with her own gown, a nice backless black number that she planned on teasing Will Riker with. Their relationship had rekindled during their mission with B’aku and it seemed to be flourishing even as they got further and further away from the area known as the Briar Patch. She would lying if she said she hadn’t been scared with renewing their romance, especially after all these years and definitely after they had left things on Betazed._

_But they were older, wiser; Will was a different man now than he had been all those years ago. Before, when he had been steadfast about wanting to jump in and get to the point where he could get his own command, his career was all he could see and if he was honest with himself, the most important thing he cared about. It had hurt her deeply with that realization and seeing him again when they both posted to the Enterprise seemed to bring that hurt back full force._

_Their relationship now was not only based on their previous one, with the feelings that they shared for each other, but also on the years of friendship that they discovered and maintained throughout their service on the same ship. They were probably closer now than they ever had been and for that, the counselor thought it best to…show her appreciation for the kind way that Will had asked her to accompany him tonight._

_Her thoughts of Will only enhanced when she felt his presence within the corridor outside her door. She could have just called him in, but Deanna could feel that the bearded commander had wanted to make an entrance. So when the chime on her door rang, she called out the obligatory, “Come in.”_

_The tall form of Commander Will Riker strode through the door, only stopping when he saw the lovely vision that stood before him. “Wow,” he said in greeting._

_“Wow yourself,” chuckled the counselor, stepping up to him and straightening the collar._

_As a formal matter, Riker had dressed in the new formal uniforms issued by Starfleet – dark pants and a crisp white, high collar jacket, double breasted, and allowing for commendation medals to hang from either side. It was the new standard dress for all officers, regardless of species or gender, though in some circumstances – such as this – female officers had the choice of wearing their own chosen style of formal wear, as long as it met with Starfleet regulations._

_Will smiled down at the brunette, pulling her slightly in his arms. The commander couldn’t have imagined a lovelier sight and the fact that she was there, with him, was incredible. He had been reevaluating his life for quite some time now, perhaps the moment when Lt. Shelby had come onboard during their first encounter with the Borg._

_He had still been young then, but not as trigger happy as the young blonde woman who had boldly told him she was after his job. He had questioned where his ambition had gone, if he had so settled in his role as Captain Picard’s number one that he had forgotten the whole point was to rise within the ranks._

_But he had learned much by being on the Enterprise and he would continue to turn down positions for his own ship until he could learn more. He didn’t just want his own command, his own ship, and his own crew – he wanted what he had on the Enterprise. The crew was loyal to the ship, to her senior staff, and most importantly, they were loyal to her captain._

_Will Riker wanted that._

_And at some point during this soul searching, he realized that he wanted Deanna Troi right with him. Maybe it was fate or coincidence that they should find themselves together on the same ship and the fact that neither of them had transferred straight off upon finding out must have said something. The tall commander didn’t think he had ever felt closer to Deanna than he had in these years they had served together._

_And if Will was to get his own command, he wanted the first person with him to be her. He could not and he would not leave her behind as he did before._

_“I’m certainly going to be the envy of everyone down there,” he whispered, a cheeky grin on his face._

_“Not if anyone can pull this off,” Deanna joked, poking a thin fingernail at his chest._

_“What?” Riker asked. “The broad chested look? Or the manly bearded look?”_

_Rolling her eyes, Deanna removed herself from his embrace and instead took his hand. “Certainly you’re the only one who can pull off the annoying commander look.”_

_“Hey!”_

_In another section of the ship, Lt. Commander Data stood in front of a mirror, adjusting his own formal uniform. The chime on his door rang and he called out for his visitor to enter, not at all surprised when Lt. Commander La Forge walked in and stood next to him. The android nodded to him through the mirror and continued his preparation._

_“Who’re you primping for?”_

_“Sorry?”_

_Geordi couldn’t help but chuckle. “You do realize that this thing has already started,” he said. “And you’re still here getting ready.”_

_“I just want to make sure I look presentable when we arrive down on the starbase,” Data replied. “I am certainly not… ‘primping’ as you say.”_

_“Alright then,” the engineer said. “Then why are you still getting ready?”_

_Data looked at his friend through the mirror, giving him somewhat of a smirk. While the android didn’t always understand the ways of humans, he could always count on Geordi to help him out. He had known the engineer for years and could at least understand his human foibles and language._

_Since the destruction of the D, most of the crew had to get used to the sight of the chief engineer without the customary VISOR he had always worn since childhood. The inquest into the ship’s demise had discovered the Klingons had used Geordi against the very ship he served on and by use of the very device he needed to see with. Starfleet had given him a choice – either get the newly constructed optical implants or leave the Enterprise._

_The decision had been a simple one for La Forge, even if it was a decision that he felt was pressed on him._

_Along with getting used to a sighted – even though technological – Geordi La Forge, the crew had to get use to a new emotional android. After the incident that involved Dr. Crusher and a holographic ocean, Data had decided to install the emotion chip that they had liberated from his brother, a chip that had been developed for him by their late father._

_Dealing with an android that had emotions coursing through him was a bit like handling a teenager, though a much stronger and a bit more intelligent version. Data definitely had a variety of ups and downs before he was able to keep his emotions in check._

_For now, Data was quite aware that his friend was teasing him, even if he didn’t recognize the mirth in his blue eyes._

_“When those present on the starbase comment on how immaculate I look,” he retorted. “Please, try not to be jealous at all the attention I receive.”_

_“I’ll keep that in mind,” the engineer said. “Come on.”_

_The two officers left the room and headed out into the corridor, making their way to the turbolifts. The attendance by the senior staff was of course mandatory and to their understanding, they would need to arrive to not only greet but speak with the Orosian group that would be below._

_Starbase 97 was a small outfit, something for the Federation to keep a watch on the edge of the borders. When the Dominion had begun to attack, the base was feared to be one of those that might be attacked too._

_Luckily, the base had been overlooked – for now at least – but there would still be several contingencies of security personnel, from both the Orosians, the Enterprise, and the starbase’s own forces to oversee that things did not get too out of hand or that nothing other than the meeting of some dignitaries would occur._

_The turbolift opened on the sixth deck of the Enterprise, surprising the men who were waiting for it with the sight that the lift was already occupied._

_“Well,” Geordi replied, viewing the current passengers as he stepped into the lift. “It’s almost a shame you have to be seen with this guy.” He thumbed a finger towards the tall bearded man who was leaning against one of the walls._

_“You look very beautiful tonight, Counselor,” Data replied, following Geordi inside. The lift doors closed and then continued its way towards deck seven, where the main shuttle bay was currently located._

_“Thank you, Data,” Deanna said, straightening the android’s collar. “I’m glad someone noticed.”_

_“I noticed!” Will protested. “I said ‘wow’ and…and…that I would be the envy of everyone there. Geordi’s already jealous!”_

_“What?”_

_“He does have a bad habit of that,” Data agreed, throwing a humorous look at his friend._

_“Maybe you need to work on your compliments, Commander,” Geordi suggested before turning an un-amused look at the second officer. “And you need to work on your humor.”_

_“I find that my humor is perfectly intact, thank you.”_

_“Says you.”_

_The lift stopped its travel on the next deck, opening its doors and revealing the main shuttle bay of the ship, housing the majority of the shuttles the new Enterprise-E carried. There were seven in all, with four of them here and the others in the area with the captain’s yacht._

_One of these shuttles, the Tempest, would be taking the senior staff down to the starbase, while one of their ships would return them when the evening was over. The base itself, while Federation in management, did lack certain things out on this side of the Alpha quadrant, mainly the use of transporters_

_“This thing would have been nicer without the dress code,” Will muttered, as the group headed for their transport. Their pilot, a Bolian by the name of Ensign Tsau, was already waiting for them by the shuttle as they approached. “The look is better,” the commander continued. “But sometimes the collar is murder on your neck.”_

_“Well,” the counselor replied. “If you want, we can switch attire on the shuttle and you can wear the dress.” The response garnered the appropriate chuckles and grins that Deanna had been hoping for._

_“I don’t think Will’s got the legs for it,” Geordi laughed._

_“On the contrary, Geordi,” Data was saying, as the group entered the shuttle and sat, allowing for the ensign to begin the procedure of taking them off the ship. “I believe Commander Riker would look rather nice in that dress.”_

_The group couldn’t help but look at the android strangely. “Thank you, Data,” Will said, unsure._

_“The beard would clash, of course.”_

_“Of course,” the first officer deadpanned. “You know, Geordi’s right; you do need to work on your humor.”_

_“And I agree that Data’s humor is perfect,” Deanna chuckled. Turning to the android, she said, “You get a sundae.”_

_“The two of you are in this together,” the engineer grumbled good naturedly. “I’m convinced of this.”_

_The friendly bickering continued as the shuttle lifted off, heading through the ship’s airlock and towards the small space station that hovered within space. The station of Starbase 97 was rather similar to that of Deep Space 9, a several tiered station with twelve decks for various things to help the station go about its daily routine._

_The lower decks housed the various engineering supplies that helped run the station, while the middle decks were mostly the crew quarters. The upper four decks were that of the docking bays in which shuttles or transports that were bringing supplies and things to the station could land and dock. It also housed the communication array, where transmission could be sent and received. It wasn’t a fancy station, certainly nothing along the lines of the other Federation and Starfleet space stations, but for the residents there, they enjoyed it._

_The arrival to SB97 was a short jaunt, a mere fifteen minutes of travel from the ship to the base. Tsau initiated communications to the base, identifying the shuttle and her passengers before banking the craft into the docking bay of the station. The quartet said goodbye to their pilot, who nodded politely as they left._

_The bay doors opened into a long corridor that led straight down and around the corner to the right; sounds of music traveled down to them. Walking down the hall, the group made their way towards the visitor’s lounge, where the banquet was being held._

_Arriving at the doors, they opened automatically, allowing the group to enter the modest room. It was bigger than one would expect for such a small space station, equaling about a 500 square foot area, and set up with a long tables filled with food on either side of the room. A bar area had been set up a bit  a ways from the second food table, however there were servers that walked around, offering people drinks._

_“Is that Worf over there?” asked Riker, nodding towards the towering figure of their former security chief._

_“I did not think he would be here,” Data responded, with some concern to his voice. “After what had happened…”_

_“He needed to be here,” Deanna whispered._

_It wasn’t the notion that the Klingon needed to be at the banquet, but the unspoken point was that he needed to be with his friends, with his family, during this ultimate time of need. They had missed his wedding to Jadzia, despite wanting to go and meet the woman who managed to get the Klingon to the alter after the death of K’Ehleyr._

_Deanna had probably worked her hardest on getting their former shipmate to join them here; she knew Worf would want to be alone, would want to wallow in his sorrow, or worse – do something incredibly stupid, like trying to take revenge on the Dominion. He had done it once before, when he had discovered the bloodied body of K’Ehleyr within her quarters and had taken his pain out on her killer. It had been a thoughtless action, but one that had been fueled by the loss of a lover, a mate, and the mother of his child._

_It had taken three invitations and two declines before the stubborn Klingon had just given up and told her that he would be there._

_“Besides,” Deanna continued. “He just needed a little persuasion to come by.”_

_“Did you offer him a sundae, too?” Data asked, good naturedly._

_“No,” the counselor huffed. “In fact, your sundae now goes to him. Excuse me.”_

_The brunette chuckled at hearing the mock groan that came from the second officer and made her way to the Klingon who seemed determined to stay as far out of the way of everything as much as possible. “Hello Worf.”_

_The former security chief and captain of the Defiant turned his gaze towards his former lover and friend. “I do not know how I let you talk me into coming to this,” he muttered._

_“Simple,” she said. “Because you like me. And you didn’t want to be by yourself.”_

_“On the contrary,” he said, gruffly. “That is…precisely what I wanted.”_

_“So why are you here?”_

_He gave her a look that clearly said that he was here only on her request and her request alone._

_“Do you want to know what I think?”_

_“No,” he sighed. “But you’re going to tell me anyway.”_

_Deanna gave him a mild pat on the arm, though not as hard as she had planned. “I think…” she began. “That you need to be with your family, whether it be with your son or here with us.” She gave his arm a squeeze, keeping her hand there as he looked at her. “You know we’re sorry for your loss,” she whispered. “And if you need anything, you need only ask. You know that.”_

_Whatever retort Worf had ready quickly died on his tongue. With the deaths of his adoptive parents some years ago and no word from his adoptive brother in years, only Alexander remained as part of his biological family. But Deanna was correct; he had his Starfleet family, people who he admired, respected, and cared for. Certainly the counselor would not have invited him if she – or the others – did not care for his wellbeing._

_He nodded, slowly. “I know, Deanna,” he whispered. “The…crew has always looked out for me and I…sometimes have not shown my appreciation, but it is there.”_

_“I know,” the counselor said, giving her friend a final pat on the arm. “Don’t stand around the bar all night; try to have some fun.”_

_He regarded her with a look, one that bordered on being stern and amused at the same time; a look that Deanna hadn’t seen for some time. “Klingons do not have fun.”_

_“Most don’t,” she replied, beginning to walk away to find her date. “But you do.”_

_Worf allowed for a small smirk to rest on his lips as he watched her go. Perhaps that was why he had relented and decided to come to this; she had known the sparse arrangement of security would be enticing enough for him to just check who exactly would be on watch and certainly, he was quite pleased that some of his best officers were both aboard and below watching for anything suspicious. Perhaps she was right – he was drifting, probably had been after seeing Jadzia’s still body, and coming back to be among his former crew – his family – would center him._

_How many times had he just been in the area or that their paths had crossed at just that precise moment? Worf was not a man who absolutely believed in the thing called fate or destiny; there was fact, there was coincidence, and then there were lies._

_But in his years as a Starfleet officer, his years trying to find the balance of being a Klingon who was raised among humans, the warrior had seen many things. Things that could be placed in what he knew to be truth and to be lies._

_He took a sip from the glass that he held, instantly growling at the horrible taste it produced. His eyes quickly found the form of Deanna and he glared at her back; she could have at least offered to get him a decent drink while he was here._

  


* * *

  


_Jean-Luc Picard was an explorer at heart._

_He had always enjoyed learning about new cultures, new discoveries that hadn’t been found before; that was one of the reasons why he had so enjoyed archeology. Sometimes he wondered if perhaps the call of the stars and universe hadn’t been so strong, if he would have been an archeologist, like Galen and some of his favorite professors at the Academy._

_The notion of meeting new species was truly the only reason the Frenchman tolerated the whole diplomatic pomp and ceremony that was Starfleet regulation and procedure. He certainly couldn’t deny that he welcomed the chance to meet with these new species, speak with them, learn of their culture and beliefs; it was exciting, to say the least._

_The captain had never heard of the species of the Orosians, though that wasn’t surprising as there were many species he hadn’t heard of until he had explored the galaxy at the helm of the Enterprise. He was actually looking forward to this, despite the fact that he would need to dress up for it._

_Currently, he stood before his mirror, doing his best to connect one side of his collar to the other. While he did think these new Starfleet uniforms were much better appearance wise, he couldn’t help but feel that they perhaps they were smaller than they should be; didn’t he have this same issue when meeting with the Evora?_

_“I still say you need a new neck.”_

_Picard merely raised an eyebrow at the mirror – or rather, at the reflected face that stood behind him in the mirror. Any other person wouldn’t have had such luxury as entering the captain’s cabin without his knowledge, but Beverly Crusher wasn’t just any other person._

_Their friendship, which had been long and evolving, had allowed for some familiarity between them. They had an easy relationship, one that bordered on close friendship and something more; several events had conspired to bring that point to both of them on several points._

_“I don’t want to hear it,” was his retort. Narrowing his eyes, he added, “How did you get in here?”_

_“I did try calling you,” replied the doctor. “But you didn’t respond, so under the protocol of a medical emergency, I broke in, expecting to find you gasping for air.”_

_“Do I have the honor of your impeccable wit?”_

_“Be nice,” she said, making her way towards him. “I got all dressed up for you and I would hate to walk down there by myself.”_

_The captain looked towards his escort for the evening, as she sidled up next to him. “Not fair,” he grumbled. “Looking better than your escort.”_

_He meant it in a friendly jest, though he did take his time to let his eyes rove over her. Like so many of the female crew members, Beverly had forgone the standard formal Starfleet uniform to dress in a dark blue evening gown, one suited to match the color of her eyes and to accentuate not only her hair, but the curves of her body._

_Picard would have had to have been blind not to see to the beauty in which his chief medical officer beheld; not just her appearance, but her very soul. The captain was not a man who had many close relationships nor was he the type of person to create such partnerships. From a very young age, he had put the journey of the stars in the forefront of his mind and there very few things that could persuade him to let go of that._

_Personal relationships were one of the first things to go. Oh, he had his friendships of course, but until he had met Jack Crusher and Walker Keel, he hadn’t had anything in which one would call a ‘best friend’. The loss of Jack had been one of the hardest times in his life, worse because of the feelings he had held for Beverly, his best friend’s widow._

_In those years since, the two of them had forged a very close friendship and had both learned to let go of the ghost of Jack. While they hadn’t exactly crossed the line from friends to lovers, they were alright in the knowledge that – when they were both ready – that line would no doubt be crossed._

_However, there were times when teasing that line could happen and tonight was just one more in that line. Beverly had known exactly what to wear and how to look – hair down, matching dress to show curves and highlight her eyes – to push that line further._

_“I’m sure you could’ve chosen to go completely formal,” she retorted, turning him so that she could get a hold of both ends of the troublesome collar. “I haven’t seen you in a tux in quite some time, you know.”_

_“Dropping hints, are you?”_

_“Not that you would ever listen to me.”_

_Though the collar was pesky, Beverly was able to get it buttoned, brushing off some imaginary lint that appeared on his uniform top. “Well?” he asked. “Do I look like a captain who is about to meet with a delegation of an unknown species?”_

_Beverly looked at him with a critical eye before nodding in the affirmative. Taking the offered arm he held out to her, they left the stateroom and began heading towards the shuttlebays. “So tell me about these Orosians,” the doctor began. “Are we planning on learning a bit more about them while on the station?”_

_“From what Commander Data and Counselor Troi discovered,” Picard said. “They are a species that is very close that of the Petellis of Cronos III; I wouldn’t be surprised if they share a common ancestry.”_

_“Are the cultures the same?”_

_“That I’m not sure of,” the captain continued. “There is only so much we actually know about them. The information that Data and Deanna, while thorough on their parts, was limited in its scope. I will admit that their desire to be a part of the Federation will open up a lot of their background to us.”_

_“Assuming that the Domination doesn’t move their occupation to their side of the planet,” countered Beverly._

_“That is of course the other consideration,” Picard mentioned. “While making first contact with any species is a treat in itself, this is not the way I would have wanted it. Sometimes, Beverly, I wish this damn war was over.”_

_“I’m sure you aren’t the first person to think that.”_

  


* * *

  


_Starbase 97 had filled up with the majority of the station’s own personnel and that of the officers of the Enterprise. The atmosphere was very positive despite the fact that the entire meeting and that of the station itself was settled directly in the midst of the war with the factions of the Dominion._

_There was an upbeat feeling, however – it was routinely known that when the Enterprise was engaged in negotiations with another species, the results were generally positive, so it made sense that this was just an ordinary mission in which the captain would speak to the leaders and everything would be alright._

_Some of the Orosians had also appeared on the station, easily interacting with those already there. The Orosians were an interesting species – short statured, they were about the height of the average Terran female at five foot five inches. Their skin was a blend of purple and blue, with a small line of dark pebble like bumps along their arms and legs; however, the skin was smooth to touch, cool even in the hottest of temperatures._

_Their facial features differed from one another, but their eye color was the same for each gender – males usually had darker eyes, bordering on black, while the females colored around a lighter shade of brown. Both genders had dark hair, styled in their personal preference._

_The chosen representative of the Orosians – an Ambassador Rilos – walked upon the station with a small entourage of two; all three were dressed in ceremonial dress of long khaki robes, covering dark pants and dark shirts underneath. The group held their heads high in a confident air, knowing their meeting here would bring about the peace and structure their planet needed._

_While the Federation didn’t know much about them, they knew much about the Federation and the starship that would be coming to them. Rilos was a man of knowledge and thus, this starship captain – this Picard – held an interest to him, as he seemed to also seek and covet knowledge to further and better himself._

_The Orosians had very few opportunities to venture outside of their own species, which was why the occupation of the Dominion had been a quick and mighty blow to them. They were at the technological point in which their inclusion into the Federation could be achieved, however like so many other planets, didn’t feel as though they needed – or wanted – Starfleet intervention. But when the city states of Le Duc, Karnell, Oros II, and Kermal had been invaded by a strange looking military force, the leaders of all the planet’s sections knew they needed help and that help would need to come from outside of the planet’s resources._

_There wasn’t what one would call panic, but there were certainly dissonants that opposed not only the occupation, but that of the involvement of the Federation. With their technology, their leaders were able to learn about the large organization, learning that in this war with their adversaries, they were not faring well. How could a group that was losing against these beings able to help them? There were also those who didn’t want help from anyone, long enjoying their exclusion from any and all other associations._

_It was a long held belief, one that predated the Ambassador, by their elders who had formed their civilization. However, he believed that the times were changing and with that, they too needed to change, lest they be held back by the emergence of new beginnings. He sincerely hoped that this merging of their culture with that of the Federation would prove to encourage the exploration of their youngsters, to bring sometimes needed care and help to their elders, and perhaps continue their legacy into a new age._

_This was to be one of those times._

  


* * *

  


_Geordi La Forge was convinced – Data was primping for someone._

_And that someone was Lt. Leslie Shaw._

_He hadn’t been sure, but he knew his friend. He had known Data long before the android had gotten his emotion chip and while it did give him a greater and deeper understanding of human behavior, the engineer – like the rest of the second officer’s friends – had always suspected and known that Data had the capabilities of knowing and understanding human emotions; the chip just enhanced them._

_Geordi had seen his friend’s short, but varied list of female companions, just as Data had seen his. In fact, they had each needed to run off a couple of people. While the chief engineer had more of a track record than his mechanical friend, Data could get his share of female attention; unfortunately, some of it wasn’t exactly the kind of attention his friend should **warrant**. _

_Despite strides that Data himself had set, there were still those that just saw him as a giant, walking, talking toaster. Women of course viewed him as some sort of energetic sex machine by his very design._

_Geordi had taken his duty as best friend, and hopefully future best man, to make sure that those types of women – and men – knew that even if Data couldn’t see the difference, **he** could and he wouldn’t be a very good friend if he let the guy be used like that. _

_But every now and then, there came a woman who could look past Data as an android and was actually smitten with him and this time, that woman was Leslie Shaw._

_Leslie was part of the science division, however she also held an interest within engineering and would sometimes give a helping hand when she wasn’t scheduled in stellar cartography. That alone put her and Data in close proximity to each other, though Geordi hadn’t been sure just how close until that night._

_He and Data had been just standing around, observing the people and the station – ‘people watching’ as Geordi coined it – enjoying one of the drinks that were floating around on various trays, when the young lieutenant had come up to them; or rather, she had come up to Data and just happened to notice Geordi standing next to him._

_Leslie Shaw was still young, despite being in her early thirties, with shoulder length blondish-brown hair that currently hung around them in soft curls. Like many of the other female officers, Shaw decided to be exceptionally feminine for the occasion, wearing a nice, but modest black evening gown. When the two senior officers smiled at her appearance, the blonde’s face and hazel eyes seem to light up as she addressed them._

_“Geordi, Data,” she said, keeping her attention clearly on the second officer._

_“We really should have more functions like these,” the engineer grinned. “I don’t think I realized how many beautiful women we have on the Enterprise.”_

_“Flatterer,” the officer giggled._

_“You look lovely, Lieutenant,” Data replied. “As always. Would you care for a drink?”_

_“No, I’m fine,” Leslie replied, shaking her head. “Just wanted to say hello before Hendersen pulled me into a conversation about port nacelles or something. However,” she gave Data a rather sultry look. “I believe you owe me a dance, Commander.”_

_Lifting his glass and with a small smile on his face, Data said, “I look forward to it.”_

_The lieutenant gave them a both a smile, before turning and heading back towards Ensign Hendersen, whom shared a shift with her in Engineering during the night shift. Both men watched the woman saunter her way towards the ensign and admired the way that she did it._

_“That’s interesting,” Geordi began, taking a sip from his champagne glass._

_“I have no idea what you are talking about.”_

_“Oh, I’m sure you don’t,” the engineer joked. He was going to enjoy this; too many times he had been the receiving end of Data’s ‘helpful’ assistance when it came to women. Not that the android made jokes of his lame attempts at romance, but even Geordi could look back and shake his head at some of the more ‘lame’ advances he had tried making. “Is there a time I should conveniently not bother you tonight?”_

_Data turned to look at his friend, seeing the mischievous look on his face. Since installing the emotion chip, the second officer was adept at understanding his friend’s – all of them – sense of humor._

_That had been one of those things he had looked forward to exploring. He often found himself on the receiving end of jokes and pranks when he was still at the Academy and it had taken some time for him to realize that those types of jokes had not been aimed to **include** him._

_Arriving on the Enterprise, even with initial doubts from the crew, had afforded him the type of lessons he felt helped him in his journey to evolving and bettering himself. Geordi in fact had been one of the first people who had accepted him; not as an android or mechanical man, but as a person. He had come to appreciate the engineer’s jovial manner and the ways in which he tried to joke around him, even when he didn’t understand the joke._

_Turnabout was of course fair play._

_“If I were to say starting now, would you go away?” he retorted._

_“Probably not.”_

_“I am pleased to see that you seem to be enjoying yourself.”_

_Geordi couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Data had picked up human behavior even quicker with his emotion chip enabled; though he still had questions involving certain aspects, his friends had tried to steer him in the best of that behavior._

_The engineer could easily see that his friend had picked up some of their own habits – the sarcastic wit, for instance, had to be a combination of both Will Riker and Beverly Crusher, he was sure of that._

_“Oh, I am, believe me.” The two were content to finish off their drinks, before Geordi made the comment, “Ever notice how your potential girlfriends are blonde?”_

_The second officer raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Is that Ensign Flores over there?” he asked, casually, containing the smile that threatened to reveal itself when Geordi instantly tensed._

_It had been a long running joke between them that at least once a crew rotation, the chief engineer managed to attract the eye of one of the engineering ensigns; this year it was one Evita Flores, who was bright eyed and star-struck at not only serving on the Enterprise itself, but within the well maintained section of Engineering._

_Data had once remarked that the ensign was hoping to get a recommendation under her name, to which Geordi had responded, “That’s not the only thing she’d like to get under.”_

_“I think she’d rather be above you,” had been the android’s retort, which had actually been regarding succeeding Geordi in rank one day, but clearly the statement had been taken in the complete opposite way by both. It also didn’t help that once Data had realized what he said, he had trouble containing the smile and laugh that wanted so badly to escape his lips._

_Geordi had vowed to get him back for that._

_“Not funny,” grumbled the darker man, eliciting a chuckle and a rather evil grin from his counterpart._

_“On the contrary,” Data replied. “That was quite funny.”_

_Their joking was halted by the arrival of Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher, who were then shown by one of the Orosian representatives to where the Ambassador and his entourage stood near one of the food tables. The captain only needed to glance in the direction of the rest of the senior staff before they joined him in the introduction._

_“On behalf of Starfleet and the Federation, I welcome you to Starbase 97.” Noting that his senior staff stood beside him as he had wished, the captain continued. “I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard, of the starship Enterprise. Behind me is my senior staff – my first officer, Commander William Riker; my second officer Lt. Commander Data; Chief Medical Officer Beverly Crusher; Counselor Deanna Troi; my chief engineer, Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge; and my former security chief, Lt. Commander Worf, who I assume is here on loan from another of our space stations, Deep Space 9.”_

_Rilos nodded to each as they were introduced. “I am pleased to meet you all,” he replied. “I am Armand Rilos, chosen ambassador for the planet of Oros. These are my aides, constable Premir Logi and constable Adak Sul. This is great event for my people, Captain. As you know, the occupation of the faction known as the Dominion could have dire consequences for my planet. Like you, I am a historian of other cultures and in learning about those involved with this Dominion group, I do not see them as helpful or beneficial as they would like us to believe.”_

_“It is of the greatest importance that we discuss how to keep your current situation from escalating,” the captain insisted. “We will of course have many things to discuss, as well as figuring out how to remove the Dominion presence from your planet.”_

_“Thank you, Captain,” Rilos said. “There will be many things to speak about, but for now, let us enjoy the current atmosphere. This meeting should be one of promise and celebration. Ah!”_

_Seeing one of their own coming around with a tray of drinks, the ambassador called the young man over. “Just in time,” he replied, indicating the tray that was filled with several glasses of a strange, dark liquid. “Forgive me. I hope it is alright for you and your staff to partake in a drink or two?”_

_“For the right occasion, Ambassador.”_

_“Excellent!” the alien exclaimed. “Then you must try our Vodindi; I believe it is similar to what humans know as wine, made from one of our most popular of fruits, the dindi. It is a celebratory drink on our planet, always presented when fortunes are about to change.”_

_Picard reached for a glass and waited until the rest of the staff had also taken a glass each. “Then we shall toast to good fortune,” he said, raising his glass in salute and taking a sip._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References: DS9 episodes - The Way of the Warrior, Tears of the Prophets, Dominion War arc; TNG episodes - The Emissary, The Best of Both Worlds, part I, The Chase, Conspiracy, Attached, The Naked Now, Ensigns of Command, In Theory, Data's Day, Phantasms; Books - Sling and Arrows series, book III: The Insolence of Office; movies - Star Trek Generations, Star Trek Insurrection


	5. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Capt. Picard spends his first day in the brig recalling a mystery he doesn't remember, while something wicked comes from Dominion way.

##  **Chapter IV**

The Present 

The career of distinguished Starfleet officers usually did not include being thrown within the brig at Starfleet Headquarters. True, there were incidents in which officers were reprimanded, but there were very few times in which a senior officer found himself in the deepest of trouble. 

Unless of course you served on the USS Enterprise. 

To wide eyed cadets and students of Starfleet Academy, the name Enterprise invoked a sense of adventure and wonder. The starship had gained quite a popularity as an exploratory vessel that had made contact with several well-known races and species, as well as being the ship of some of the biggest names in Starfleet – Archer, Pike, Kirk, McCoy, Scott, Spock – just to name a few. Even as the ship continued to traverse the galaxy, new names were added to that roster, most recently the current crew of the ship – those under the command of Captain Jean-Luc Picard. 

What some of the starry eyed cadets didn’t know or chose not to care about was, despite gaining such a prestigious name and fame, there came costs to being a crew member of the Enterprise. For some, serving on the ship was a one stop hop to getting further within their own careers; those were the officers who usually lasted one or two missions with the ship. Then there were ‘the lifers’. Lifers was a term that described an officer that had been posted to a starship and then didn’t want to leave it, even if it meant halting their own climb through the ranks. 

A lot of lifers served on the Enterprise. 

There were a number of stories attributed to the many crew members that served on the various designations of the ship – Captain James T. Kirk had been demoted from the rank of admiral for insubordination and theft of his very ship; Commander William T. Riker had turned down his own command a total of six times just to continue as the first officer on the vessel; even Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge had turned down a prime posting at the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards in order to stay on the ship. 

While some viewed the Enterprise crew as never failing and a top notch crew, there were some that felt that very loyalty that was shared was dangerous. It was loyalty after all that caused the crew of the Enterprise-A to muster the nerve and gall to steal the ship out of dry dock and pilot it to the unstable Genesis planet; it had been loyalty that caused the crew of the Enterprise-E to disobey orders, twice – first by engaging the Borg and then by helping the B’aku after being warned not to. 

Many in the admiralty saw this disregard by not only a starship captain, but that of his entire crew, as a danger that could cost them in ways they couldn’t imagine. Crews that stuck so closely together may be counted upon to band together towards destruction of a planet or worse; loyalty like this was usually seen as blind group mentality and would cost not only Starfleet, but that of the Federation. 

The recent case of the Orosians certainly proved that logic had swayed many of those reluctant to the possibility. It seemed that the senior staff of the Enterprise had followed their captain to mass murder, of not only a delegation brought aboard for the purposes of peace, but their own crew. There was no rhyme or reason to it; the Federation had gained nothing from the event. In fact, the already tense and hostile environment of the war had only grown by this act, as the Orosians were on the verge of making an abrupt about-face away from the Federation and into the arms of the Dominion forces that currently occupied one side of their planet. 

If the events were confusing and frustrating for the Enterprise crew, it did nothing to settle the lingering questions that the high ups in Starfleet had. For Admiral Alynna Nechayev, this entire affair was completely and utterly a disaster. Her stride towards the Starfleet Brig was purposeful, with an air of determination that she always carried when coming to speak to one of her lower ranking officers. People that passed her, or were passed by her, kept out of her way, knowing the admiral was clearly on the warpath against someone or something. 

That day, the blonde woman’s intent was that of Captain Jean-Luc Picard or rather that of the cell that he would be currently sitting in. The two of them had their issues with each other; she personally thought he was too soft on matters in which the security of the Federation was paramount. She had never forgotten – nor forgiven – him for seemingly letting go a Borg drone and sending it back to the Collective, even if he and his crew had managed multiple times of stopping the mechanical minded aliens. 

However, even with her views on the way he approached certain things and missions, Nechayev couldn’t help but admit that she held a lot of respect for the man. There needed to be some compassion in dealing with non-Federation species and that of a captain’s crew and it appeared that Picard had all of that in abundance. She certainly couldn’t fault him for all of the things he had accomplished as both captain of the Stargazer and the Enterprise and it was widely known that both of his crews had been truly loyal to him and their missions above those vessels. 

That was why something about this recent transgression didn’t sit well with the woman. She may not have gotten along with Jean-Luc, but she didn’t think him a murderer and certainly not someone who would go about killing his own crew. The very idea that the decorated captain and his senior staff could do something so gruesome, something that not only put their careers at risk, but that of negotiations with the Orosians at risk, was a move that made no sense. 

Something else was going on here. 

Being the type of woman and officer that went about looking for answers, Nechayev began to question the findings on this. Her standing in Starfleet allowed her to at least have access to the verdict for the Enterprise staff and some of the trial material. And that was how her morning had begun – getting the information that she had required before making a point to visit the starship captain in his brig cell. 

From what she could gather, Picard and his senior staff had taken over their own ship, killing those crew members who apparently stood in their way, and then executing the assigned ambassador that came aboard to investigate a supposed attack from the ship on the planet itself. Again, that entire scenario made absolutely no sense to her and certainly the evidence that the Orosians presented seemed straight on, even if it only brought up more questions than answers. 

And Alynna wanted answers. 

The Starfleet Brig was truthfully just a holding facility for prisoners until further sentencing could be done or when they could be transferred to better facilities. Despite Picard entering in a guilty plea on behalf of his staff, there still needed to be a sentencing hearing that would ultimately decide his fate. At minimum, he would most likely lose his command and be sent somewhere to live out the rest of his days. 

At the maximum, he would still lose his command, but be sent to a stronger penal community in which to serve his time as a convicted murderer. In the minimum option, there could be extenuating circumstances that _might_ allow him access to Starfleet; in the maximum, he would never again be granted anything remotely tied in with the Federation or Starfleet. 

When the admiral arrived at the brig, those that knew of her regarded her with salutes or nods; those that didn’t know her, knew _of_ her or at least was aware of her rank, especially if they were lower on the ranking scale. The Starfleet Brig wasn’t very large, just a big enough facility to hold at the very most thirty to fifty incarcerated officers or other felons that would come through the grounds. The difference between the brig that was housed on the San Francisco grass was the fact that each cell was situated for only one individual. 

The cell that held one Jean-Luc Picard was large enough for the man to pace back and forth, from the wall that held a bench for him to sit on, past the soft plank that held a single bed, and to the opposite wall. A pacing Picard is what greeted Nechayev, as she entered his cell block – that area that were usually reserved for those officers of Starfleet who found themselves either in contempt or considerable trouble. A young security lieutenant stood at the consoles that worked the force fields that kept prisoners within their prospective cells. The lieutenant nodded to the admiral as she passed by, coming to stop in front of the cell, where the Enterprise captain was so agitated. 

“Come to gloat, Admiral?” 

Alynna nodded to the security officer, indicating that she wanted to enter the cell. “We may have our differences, Jean-Luc,” she replied, stepping through the doorway and taking a seat on the bench on the wall. “But I hope you don’t believe that I’m actively out to get you.” 

Picard continued his pacing, though he did throw an apologetic look at the blonde woman. “Of course not,” he muttered. 

“Jean-Luc,” Alynna began. “Help me understand what exactly is going on here. I may disagree with you on things, but I would never presume to believe that you would turn a phaser on your own crew. And despite what these Orosians state, that fact alone is completely unbelievable.” 

Picard pivoted in his pace, turning to face the admiral. “Admiral,” he pleaded. “Surely there must be something that can be done. You must believe that we had nothing to do with this! I know that the evidence is such that we have been clearly implicated, but there…there _must_ be something to explain all of this!” 

“First, let us start from the beginning,” the admiral began. “My position as an admiral affords me a great deal of access, unfortunately I haven’t been able to get the kind of access to your trial documents. I only have hearsay and conjecture to go on, so I thought I would come to the source. What exactly happened?” 

Jean-Luc took a seat on the bed and faced Nechayev. “I’m afraid the answers aren’t so simple, Admiral,” he sighed. “I’m not exactly what sure happened myself. In fact, _none_ of us are exactly sure what happened.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.” 

“Essentially, Admiral,” the captain replied. “We have no memory of the events that we have been accused of.” 

“What?” 

Picard sighed, this time in frustration. “I know it sounds fantastic,” he muttered. “Even we had trouble believing what was going on, but we have asked the same questions I’m sure you have or you plan on asking.” 

Alynna couldn’t help but stare at Picard. How does one lose their memories, more over how does a group of people lose their memories at the same time? “You’ll forgive me if I ask for a more bit explanation than that,” she stated. 

Again, Picard sighed. He knew the story seemed ridiculous to anyone who hadn’t been there, but he couldn’t think of a better reason of explaining the event. Other than starting at the beginning and hoping that Nechayev didn’t think he had completely lost his mind. “If you are looking for an explanation, Admiral,” Picard said. “I can only give the one that is known to us. It began the night on Starbase 97…”

  


* * *

  


On the planet of Oros, there was still mourning for the loss of their appointed leader of Armand Rilos and his two aides. Their murders had been such a shock to the people, as had the unprovoked attack by the Federation starship Enterprise. To the side of the planet that had not been attacked or affected by the control of the Dominion, this surprising turn of events had of course changed several minds about enlisting the help of the human dominated organization. 

On the Dominion controlled area of the planet, the news that the crew of the Enterprise had fired upon the ‘unattainable side’ was an unexpected buoy in helping matters for them. The Breen species and that of the Jem H’adar that patrolled these lands were quite confident that the Federation knew when their time was up, that they obviously knew defeat when it stared them in the face. Their determination at trying to stop them, at keeping their precious status as protectors had been valiant, but had failed in the face of insurmountable odds. This was just another win in their favor, another of the victories that would continue to bolster their control. 

For the leaders of the Dominion, that of the Founders, this unbridled attack by the flagship of Starfleet was exactly as they had hoped. 

Exactly as they had planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References: Star Trek - The Original Series; TNG episodes - The Best of Both Worlds, Chain of Command parts I & II, I, Borg, Descent, part I


	6. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the banquet on Starbase 97 does not go as planned, as the senior staff of the Enterprise find themselves in their own brig.

##  **Chapter V**

_The Past_

_William T. Riker awoke to probably the worst hangover that he had ever had._

_In a normal situation, the beeping of his alarm would be met with hard jab to quiet it, but he would none the less be ready to throw the covers off and get out of bed. This day would have seen him possibly up a bit earlier than his 0630, as the captain had requested a senior staff meeting at 0800 hours in order to discuss plans with the delegation that were to meet with them. It was a standard procedure when meeting those species that needed Federation and thus Starfleet help – the senior staff would meet, usually before said delegation would be escorted onboard for further discussion on whatever issue they were having._

This morning, however, was not a typical one, as the commander felt as though his quarters were closing in on him. His head was pounding out the rhythm of Benny Goodman’s popular rendition of “Sing, Sing, Sing”, as though the drumming of Gene Krupa made up the entire song. And once the constant drum solo stopped, there was the loud screaming of the horn section. Again, on a normal day, this tune would mean that things were going great and the urge to get his trombone and the small Dixieland band that played on the ship together would push through the day. 

_Not today._

_Along with Krupa’s drumming on his skull, his stomach felt as though it was on the open ocean, like the captains and commanders of the ships of old. It was rolling back and forth, as though caught up in the shaking rage of the sea. Picard had always been fascinated with the ships of old, sailing around the world through the seas; Riker didn’t care for that, at least the sea part. He enjoyed his travel through the stars, especially when he didn’t get seasick._

_Today was probably the first time he had ever been seasick on the Enterprise._

_The beeping of the alarm was still going strong and Riker reached a trembling hand towards the device in which the noise was coming from. He stayed like that, arm resting on the bed side table, until his stomach churned, protesting the fact that Riker was laying on it. Rolling over on to his back with a deep groan, Will just lay there, breathing slowly and with his eyes still closed. With the greatest of effort, he opened them, blue orbs blurrily taking in the ceiling that sat above his head before turning to ensure that he was indeed in his own quarters._

_Again, with effort and slowness, Will eased himself into a sitting position before slowly turning to put his feet on the floor. He stood up slowly before backing into the bed when the room tilted. Once the room started to right itself, Will made his way slowly to the bathroom, where he hoped a shower could at least make the dizziness stop._

  


* * *

  


_If trying to get out of bed and to the bathroom had been a hassle, making his way to the bridge and then that of the observation lounge was a test of endurance that Will Riker was steadily losing. The barely lit area of his own quarters was nothing like the rest of the brightly lit and blaring glare of the Enterprise._

_Showered, dressed, and full of coffee did nothing to stop the sway of his stomach, even as his steps were a bit quicker leading to his door. Opening it of course caused him to step back when met with the brightness of the corridor and the sounds of the crew that was already up and going about their day. Keeping his eyes closed, Will managed to walk his way from the door to the wall on the other side, where he stood for some time. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes again and was rewarded with Gene Krupa banging away on his skull, this time with more precision and a great deal louder than necessarily warranted._

_Every step to the turbolift, which of course was nowhere near close to his quarters, seemed to trigger something in his gut that proclaimed the further he went, the more it would threaten to empty itself._

_And it didn’t care where either._

_The normal trip, from his quarters to the bridge, normally took all of five, ten minutes. Today, it was about twenty and then there was still the long walk to the observation lounge, situated on the west side of the bridge. By the time he walked in, he was just in time for the meeting._

_The first thing he did was to lower the already darkened room even darker by twenty five percent. With that done, Will was able to see that Geordi La Forge and Deanna Troi were already seated at the table, though sitting was probably a bit of an understatement. Deanna gave no qualms that she was suffering, arms on the table and her head lying on top of them; Geordi sat next to her, head in his hands. Both appeared to be asleep, but Will saw Geordi’s head pop up and a grateful moan escaped his lips._

_“Finally I can see,” he muttered._

_“I turned the lights down,” replied Will, shuffling to his normal chair near the head of the table and dropping down in it._

_“You’re a great man,” came the slurred response from the Betazed next to him._

_“A very kind man.”_

_“I’m just glad I’m not the only one suffering,” the commander grunted, copying Geordi and placing his head in his hands. “What the hell happened last night? I don’t ever remember being so hungover.”_

_The trio were content in silence until the outer door swooshed open, allowing the android second officer through. While Data was usually the picture of immaculate perfection, today the second officer seemed to be a little slower than normal. His steps were still precise, however his gait was a bit shaky and when he went to sit at his normal place across from Riker, both the commander and the engineer noticed the android seemed to have gone even paler than his normal color dictated._

_“I feel terrible.”_

_Will looked at his friend and could clearly see Data did not seem his usual self. “You too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. There weren’t many things that could offline the android, especially nothing in terms of human conditions._

_“Every circuit, every wire in my body feels like it is going to explode,” the second officer explained. “It feels as if both my audio and visual receptors are malfunctioning, as though every process is taking an eternity to reach them. I missed the sound of my internal alarm going off; upon walking out of my quarters, it felt as though I was staring at a sun that had gone supernova. The reason that I am late is because I had to resort to taking the Jefferies tubes in order to get here; apparently even looking at a turbolift seems to give me a sense of vertigo._

_“Even now, my visual receptors seem to be failing,” he continued. “It seems much darker in here than normal.”_

_“Will turned the lights down,” Deanna murmured._

_Data let out a sigh of relief before slouching down and leaning back against his chair. “Bless you, Commander,” came the relieved statement. “You are such a kind man.”_

_“Wonderful man,” replied the counselor._

_“Data, wait a minute,” Geordi said. He was trying to understand what his friend had been telling them, but the cotton that had situated itself between his ears was making it hard to concentrate. He did understand that what Data was describing was almost impossible for the android to experience._

_“What…what was the thing about…what you just said?”_

_“Which thing, Geordi?”_

_“About your visual…um…what you said,” the engineer stumbled. “About the Jefferies tube and the turbolift. Everything you said makes no sense.”_

_Data hummed in agreement, clearly understanding what his friend was trying to ask him. “I have been wondering that myself,” he said, his head back against his chair and his eyes closed. “Unfortunately, thinking seems to be even slower than what I described earlier, but I can say that in my current state, I cannot come up with any type of conclusion.”_

_“I’d say you were suffering from a hangover,” the counselor stated, lifting her head to look at her friend. “If you were human, of course. But that’s what I would say.”_

_“Oh, of all the things I wanted to partake in the human experience,” the android began. “This is not one of them. In fact, this sucks.”_

_The others nodded their agreement or would have if the very movement of their heads didn’t cause them to wince. The senior staff meeting that was supposed to take place at 0800 hours didn’t actually start until about fifteen minutes before 0900 hours. Both Worf, who had agreed to take the place of Daniels for the time being, and Dr. Crusher arrived together, both feeling the same way those already gathered did._

_In her rush to make the meeting somewhat on time, Beverly hadn’t once thought of bringing a hypospray which would have effectively knocked out the headaches and nausea that she was currently feeling. She was just happy she didn’t have duty within Sickbay that morning. The last person to arrive was that of Jean-Luc, who had never arrived late to a senior staff meeting. Ever._

_The fact that the others didn’t even notice was another thing that was telling._

_Even when he sat down, the captain knew this was going to be the most unproductive meeting they had ever had. Picard was not what someone would call a heavy drinker, in fact other than the wines that were produced by the Picard Vineyard label, the Frenchman hardly ever touched a drink. They slowed down responses, both mental and physical and as captain of a Starfleet vessel, he could afford neither. Special occasions of course called for a lack in that protocol, but neither he – nor his crew – ever indulged in such a way to bring them to this._

_The entire senior staff was out. And it was at the most unfortunate of times, too._

_“As much as I would like to call a sick day for everyone on board,” he began. “We need to work around our…predicament. As agreed, I think, Ambassador Rilos will be coming aboard later, along with his aides, in order to go over what would need to be done in order to 1. Enter into the Federation and 2. Keep the Dominion from entering their neutral side of their planet._

_“And before I forget, their alcoholic beverage is banned from the Enterprise. Forever.”_

_“Thank God,” mumbled the chief engineer._

_“When is the Ambassador supposed to be aboard?” Beverly asked._

_v“Um…” the captain began, closing his eyes as his stomach surged in protest. “About 0300 hours. Meaning we all need to be up to the task before that time. Mr. Data, do you have that report on the Orosians and their planet?”_

_Data turned his head to regard the captain, a look of confusion passing through his features. “Uh…sure,” he said, lifting his head from the position on the chair. The motion seemed to cause his neural net to flicker out for a moment, pausing the android before his fingers could touch the panel on the table. “Um…” he sighed, his hand poised over the controls. “If you direct your attention to the…one of…the…” He waved his hand in a general direction of where one of the view screens was located._

_“Whichever one you’d like,” he continued. “There is…that’s…the stuff.”_

_Picard tried not to be annoyed with the less than stellar response from his second officer. Of all of them, he expected Data to be a bit more in control of his faculties. “Could we have a bit more explanation, Mr. Data?” He also knew in asking, at any other time, the android would use the statement as a free pass to go over any and everything that could possibly be within this report._

_Data thought through the question asked and realized there was no way he could properly give a presentation. Everything seemed as though it was being filtered somehow before it actually reached his positronic matrix, like what one would call wading through a fog or a swamp. Shaking his head slightly, before hissing in a breath for the action, he stated, “At this moment...this juncture…probably not.”_

_The captain sighed, hating that even his second officer seemed to be affected. The fact that this incident shouldn’t have affected Data at all only came across his mind briefly, as it did with everyone around the table, however the overall bouts of headaches, nausea, the sensitivities, and lethargy had completely buried what would have otherwise been a very important clue._

_Nodding slowly, Picard said, “Very well. I say this meeting has been a complete waste of time. Let’s meet again when we have each gotten some sort of rest and can think straight. Does anyone know who is doing bridge duty when we finish here?”_

_“I believe it is me, sir,” Data replied._

_“Terrific,” Worf muttered._

_“I should be able to maintain control of the ship and bridge crew, despite the fact that I am functioning at…well…a lower expectancy than I would normally be functioning,” Data responded, sending a look to the former security chief that showed the Klingon’s statement was not appreciated._

_“I am quite sure that I can handle bridge duties. As long as we travel at a speed of low impulse power and we do not run into anything, like asteroids, comets, space pirates, war faring aliens…”_

_“On this ship?” Riker asked, incredulously. It was a known fact that if something could go wrong on the Enterprise, it certainly would, hence Commander Riker’s own joked statement that fate favored fools, little children, and ships named Enterprise._

_“Granted,” Data continued. “The odds of that happening are…” The android tried to calculate just what those odds would be should they actually manage to stay on their destination with nothing going on, but with everything else, he found that the thought was not as forth coming as it usually would be. “Really, really small.”_

_“Alright, Mr. Data,” Picard said, knowing that the second officer did have a bit more ways in managing than that of his human comrades. The captain wasn’t sure, but he thought perhaps the use of the emotion chip was exacerbating any sickness the android was feeling. “Provided the first sign of trouble, you will notify me and that of Commander Riker.”_

_“Of course, Sir.”_

_“Alright. Let’s see if we can get rid of these damned headaches,” the captain continued. “Beverly, surely there’s something in Sickbay that could help?”_

_“Hmm?” the doctor asked. “What? Oh sure, Jean-Luc. I bet I could find something. Hair of the dog that bit you?” The last part was meant to be a joke, but the combined “NO!” from the others told the good doctor that it was a joke in poor taste, due to the circumstances._

_The group was dismissed, with orders to do whatever it took so that they weren’t in this same state in a few hours. Worf gave a gruff warning to Data as they began to file out – “Make sure to not crash into some planet in the dark.”_

_“I shall be on the bridge, not Counselor Troi,” came the android’s retort._

_“When I’m sober,” Deanna muttered. “Remind me to hit you. Both.”_

  


* * *

  


_He couldn’t move._

_The restraints that held him about the wrists were strong, nearly too strong for him to break loose from. After his first attempt, he had been given an offer by her – that if he truly wanted to be human, to feel human, he would need the skin. He had already found that much of his forearm had been covered with human flesh; he dared not think where that flesh may have come from. He was quite surprised at how much pain he had felt when he had been scratched._

_Searing was the only word that could truly describe and yet, it wasn’t enough to adequately explain the experience. He had never felt pain before, at least not in the terms that humans knew it to be and when he had felt the rip, the tear, the air hitting the exposed underlying skin…he had bit his lip to stop from screaming; he had literally bit back the cry that was so deep in his throat…_

_And then…and then he had made a decision. He had two choices, both right, but one seemed much more…ethical, moral than the decision he had chosen. But what choice was there? Only he stood in the way of…her, of them from getting a hold of the Enterprise. He had made the choice that had ultimately worked in their favor…_

_But now, he couldn’t move. Perhaps the conclusion was merely a dream and this was reality. Maybe he hadn’t thwarted the Queen as he thought he had, for he was still restrained. And she was coming towards him, the same look in her eye that she had when he had made his decision…_

_Data awoke to the feeling of anxiety and fear. He had gotten in the habit of keeping his emotion chip on most of the times, even when he slept. He found it to be especially interesting when he engaged his dream program, enjoying the experience of feeling the emotions associated with the dreams that he had. Unfortunately, those times in which he had rather unpleasant dreams, he found that he couldn’t seem to shake the unease and even paranoia that his feelings instilled in him._

_The fact that he was dreaming about his time in Engineering when he had been captured by the Borg seemed strange. After the incident, he had avoided all things that could remind him of that time – Engineering, the dream program, he had gone as far as keeping his emotion chip disabled. That decision had caused a lot of strife between him and Deanna, as she had wanted him to face those unpleasant feelings. It was the first time that they had ever truly fought and disagreed in the manner they had._

_A part of him wished to just forget that he had even dreamed about the Borg period, however he had promised the counselor that should he need to talk, he would seek her out as he had done previously. The moment of calm he felt as he came down from his nightmare only seemed to increase when he had the strange notion that someone was in the room with him. He tried to pass it off as the after effects of his dream program – he often times felt he wasn’t alone, especially after a particularly disturbing dream – but he none the less began to look slowly at his surroundings._

_He found three men standing at the bottom of his bed._

_Two of the men he knew as members of the security crew on the Enterprise; the third man he didn’t know, but he realized that the third man was a member of the Orosian species. “I know you,” Data said, looking at the man on the left, whom he knew as Lt. Mark Anson. “And I know you,” he continued, glancing at the man on the right, identifying him as Lt. Jeff Hart. “You,” he said, looking at the Orosian. “I do not know.”_

_“Greetings, Commander Data,” the Orosian replied. “I am Constable Helseth Snerrub, of the Orosian security force.”_

_Data nodded. “Ah,” he said. “How do you do? Well, now that we have all been properly introduced, perhaps you could tell me why you are all standing at the foot of my bed.”_

_“We don’t want to make a scene, Commander,” Hart said, taking a breath. “If you would just come with us, I’m sure you can get any questions you have answered.”_

_The second officer hesitated a bit, prompting Anson to say, “Please Commander. Let’s not make this any more difficult than it already is.”_

_It had taken Data many a year to truly observe and understand the telltale signs of human emotion and human behavior. Right now, his intuition told him that both security officers were extremely uncomfortable about being there and about needing to escort him somewhere. He certainly didn’t want to make the situation more troubling than it clearly was – the two officers were just doing their duty – so Data nodded, complying with their wishes._

_As he normally didn’t need bed clothing, the android was already dressed in his uniform when he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Would you like to take some time to freshen up, Commander?” asked Snerrub._

_“I believe it would be better if we took care of this matter as soon as possible.”_

_“Very well,” the Orosian replied. “Follow these fine gentlemen, if you would.”_

_The walk to an unknown location was actually very familiar to the second officer, as it was the route that led to the Enterprise’s main brig on Deck 4. The confusion of the morning only added to the questions that Data couldn’t readily answer; it seemed to become even more perplexing when, upon reaching the force field of the holding cell, it was already filled._

_Geordi, Deanna, Beverly, Worf, and Will were already assembled within the large chamber and upon seeing the android, were just as surprised as he was. “If you’ll go ahead and get in, Commander.”_

_Data turned his confused look on the young lieutenant that spoke. “In there?” he asked, pointing to the inside of the brig. Okay, this was clearly going too far. “Lieutenant, what is going on?” he asked, even as Anson nodded to the ensign on duty to lower the force field so the android could step through._

_“Please sir,” Anson replied. “You promised you wouldn’t make a scene.”_

_“I am not making a scene,” Data insisted, though he could feel his voice rising in anger, panic, he wasn’t really sure. “I just…I am just wondering…why I am being put in this holding cell with the apparent rest of the senior staff. It is a very valid question, you know.”_

_“And you certainly have the right for questions, Mr. Data,” Snerrub answered. “However, for the moment, you are being placed here until further notice.”_

_“For what?” came the question from Geordi. “You still haven’t told us why we’re in here!”_

_“As I stated earlier, Mr. La Forge,” Snerrub continued. “I think it would be best if all of you…were together to hear what I have to say.”_

_“The observation lounge would have a much more appropriate place,” Data added, reluctantly stepping inside and watching as the force field was once again raised._

_The look the Orosian gave them held as much glee and anger as anyone they had ever met. “I believe this to be a better venue, all things considered.” With that, the constable turned on his heels and left, followed reluctantly by Hart and Anson, who didn’t bother to hide their shame and embarrassment in having to lock up the senior staff._

_“What is going on here?” Data all but demanded, once the three were gone._

_“Hell if we know,” Riker shrugged._

_“We have apparently been…detained,” Worf grumbled._

_“Yes, I can see that,” Data replied with a huff. “My question is why?”_

_“I think the best person to ask that question to would be the captain,” Beverly said, slouched over on the available bench in between Deanna and Worf._

_“You can ask him in about two seconds,” Deanna said. “He’s just walking through the door.”_

_Just as the counselor predicted, the same group that had escorted Data to the brig were now showing the captain towards them. And it was easy to see that Picard was not happy about being here, especially when he saw the rest of the senior staff within the holding cell. The captain didn’t wait until the force field went down to turn his ire on the group._

_“Just what is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Now I have allowed you to escort me to my own brig and I can see you spared the same courtesy to my bridge officers. Now I have been patient for as long as I dared, but enough is enough.”_

_“Quite right, Captain,” Snerrub replied, nodding that the captain should join his comrades inside the holding cell. “Now that you’re securely held, let me tell you the charges that you are facing.”_

_“Charges?” Will asked, surprised. “What charges?”_

_“Acting in accordance with the laws of Plimmtin and that of the Orosian leadership, you are all charged with treason, conspiracy to commit murder and other violent acts, destruction of property…” Snerrub waited until the protests of innocence died down. “And of course,” he continued. “Murder within the highest degree. I am currently in the process of contacting your Starfleet and Federation government as to what should be done for your own people, but rest assured, my people will seek the highest punishment in regards to these crimes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References: music - The Benny Goodman Orchestra (which consisted of Gene Krupa on drums), The Gene Krupa Orchestra, "Sing, Sing, Sing" by Louis Prima (made popular by the Benny Goodman Orchestra); movies - Muppet Treasure Island; Star Wars Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back; Star Trek Generations, Star Trek First Contact, Star Trek II - The Wrath of Khan; tv - TNG episode "Contagion"; The Simpsons episode "Marge vs The Monorail"


	7. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A holodeck recreation brings about a clue, while some investigating on Beverly's part brings more questions than answers.

**Chapter VI**

The Present 

0730 hours saw Commander Data standing within the holodeck. He had spent the first part of his morning gathering together his memories – those that he could recall – from his databanks and placing them in a program he had planned for the holosuite. About fifteen minutes after he had finished downloading what he did remember, he had transferred the program to holodeck three and made a beeline for it. 

The program that he had written would be a three dimensional representation of that night on Starbase 97. For the android officer, his memory was much more all-encompassing than that of his human counterparts, allowing him to remember the smallest of details. 

His visual receptors sent messages to his neural net, splitting the information into data bits and microbes of light that arranged themselves within his memory. The very fact that he, along with his colleagues, had also been affected by memory loss was a bit more disconcerting than he would readily admit. Wiping his memory core took a very precise, if not time consuming, effort; however, it was clear that someone had gone the extra mile to do so. 

The scene he set up was exactly two minutes and twelve seconds before the captain’s introduction to Ambassador Rilos. The event was set up just the way he remembered it – the various Starfleet personnel that had been roaming around, the two food tables on either side of the room, the small table that held a small assortment of alcohol, the wait staff that consisted of both Starfleet and Orosian, as well as the presence of both himself, the captain, and the rest of the senior staff. 

Currently, Data – the real one – stood by the recreated door that would have led to the kitchen area on the space station. He looked around to make sure everything was where it should be. From this perspective, the second officer could see the holo version of himself and Geordi, as they stood in the upper portion of the room, near the entrance. Away from them, at the mini bar, stood Worf; near the western most food table were Commander Riker and Counselor Troi; and in front of the entrance, having just entered, were Captain Picard and Dr. Crusher. 

The delegation of Orosians stood on Data’s right, cattycorner to the kitchen entry. The second officer had made sure to include all staff that had been there, from the security officers to that of the catering services, making sure that anyone who he had even glanced at or nodded to was included in this recreation. 

At about 0823 in the morning, Geordi and Worf made their way through the doors, spotting Data immediately as he walked around, making sure everything was in place. “You’ve been a busy android,” the chief engineer quipped, looking around. If he hadn’t known this was just a recreation, he would have sworn they were back on the orbital space station. 

“I am still unsure how this will be able to help us or the captain,” Worf muttered. 

“It’s simple, Worf,” Geordi replied. “Retrace our steps. Find out if anything happened here, then move forward.” 

“It feels as though we are going _backwards_ ,” the Klingon huffed. “Not forwards.” 

“Hopefully this exercise will no doubt help propel us towards an eventual conclusion,” Data said. “And solution. Because if we cannot…” 

“The captain sits in a Starfleet brig for the rest of his life,” Geordi finished. 

Worf had a readymade answer for that. The whole situation had not and did not sit well with the former security chief. Over and over again, he kept telling himself that an incident like this would have never of occurred had he been on the Enterprise. Unfortunately, the very fact that he _had_ been involved in this and _still_ the incident was able to occur rankled him into such a fury he was barely able to control. 

Just before their agreed upon meeting time, the rest of the senior staff began to file into the holodeck, equally surprised at the amount of detail that Data was able to put into this reenactment. Their goal here was simple – go over what had occurred in this room and find any kind of clue that could point them in the right direction. The initial problem was of course that they had no idea what it was they were looking for. A fact that Worf brought up immediately. “What exactly are we looking for?” 

“We will know it when we see it,” was Data’s response. Looking around once more, the second officer replied, “Computer, run program.” 

The holo versions of people began to spring to life, going about their way and their business. The captain and Dr. Crusher entered from the front, immediately calling attention to the others as they all made their way to the Orosian delegation. Picard introduced himself and the senior staff, while the ambassador introduced himself and his aides; the group then were introduced to the celebratory drink of Vodindi and with a toast, downed their glasses. 

The group chatted for a few more minutes, the ambassador and the captain clearly indulged in a meeting of the minds, while the rest of the staff went their own ways – Data kept his promise of a dance with Lt. Shaw, Geordi successfully avoided Ensign Flores only to get caught in some sort of history of warp drive discussion with Ensign Roger Porter, Will and Worf seemed to be conspiring something for a holodeck program, while both Deanna and Beverly put bets on the odds that both would wind up in sickbay. 

The rest of the program went on like that until Riker said, “Computer, freeze program.” Letting out a frustrated sigh, he turned to regard the rest of the group. “We’re missing something. We have to be. During this entire night, we only consumed a few glasses of actual alcohol and certainly not the amount it would take to make us black out for the duration of the rest of the night or longer. What’re we missing?” 

“Computer,” Data responded. “Replay program at index 14:23 please.” The simulation began to rewind itself by fourteen minutes and twenty-three seconds, at the point where the Orosian waiter had brought them all a tray of drinks. “Freeze program.” 

The group stood staring at their frozen counterparts, as they had turned towards the waiter and listened to Rilos explain about the drink being given. The current group all wondered the same thing – 

“Was there something in the drink?” Beverly asked, voicing the question everyone was thinking. 

Data for his part was looking around at the other waiters and waitresses that were also serving drinks; he began making his way towards the drinks table. 

“Computer,” he began. “Analyze all drinks within this room, save for the ones that are being presented to myself and the other members of the senior staff.” 

“There are five varieties of alcohol and one unknown.” 

“Ignore the unknown,” Deanna replied. “Common names for the five drinks that can be identified.” 

“Champagne, vodka, Sullian white wine, Sullian red wine, and Vularian whiskey.” 

Data turned to look at the Orosian waiter. “Computer,” he said. “Resume program, however only focus on the Orosian gentlemen who is carrying the unknown alcoholic beverage.” 

The program began once more, only this time the Orosian waiter was the one that moved. Once he thought the drinks had been removed, he bowed before making his way back towards the kitchen. However, as he went, he turned to look back at the group, a self-serving grin on his face as he observed them. “Computer, freeze program.” 

The sextet glared at the waiter, as his frozen grin leered at them from his place by the kitchen. “Wonder what he’s so happy about,” Beverly mumbled, her blue eyes on the young alien. 

“Possible opportunity to be a part of something bigger for his people?” queried Riker. 

“Or happy to have delivered some sort of poison to us and the Ambassador.” Worf countered. 

“But why?” Deanna agreed. “What would be the purpose?” 

“Deanna’s right,” the doctor said. “Why would the Orosians want to poison us?” 

“Perhaps they truly do not want the help of the Federation,” Worf interjected. “Maybe all of this was a deception.” 

“Again, for what purpose?” asked Deanna. 

“That, my dear Counselor, is what we will have to find out,” Data responded, his eyes never leaving the figure of the waiter. “Watson.” 

“Holmes?” Geordi asked, knowingly. 

“The game is afoot.”

  


* * *

  


An hour after leaving the holodeck, Beverly found herself in sickbay, going over reports and updating files before she would need to transfer to her new assignment. There was something to be said about being a member of the senior staff for the flagship of the fleet – they had all been afraid that they wouldn’t be able to get back on the ship in order to conduct their own investigation; however, luck had been on their side when the security personnel had been from Enterprise’s own security forces and they had all been trained personally by Worf when he had been the security chief. 

The one thing that the Enterprise did was instill loyalty among the crew. Those that were left were adamant in defending their commanding officers and their captain; in fact, no one believed the events in questioned ever happened, despite there being video evidence to the contrary. If the senior staff was confused on the events, the junior staff of the Enterprise were equally stunned and confused. Only those crewmembers who had only been with the ship for a short time wondered if the reports were true, but they were quickly shushed by their colleagues, those who had worked alongside the accused for years and knew they would never turn on them, not unless something drove them to it. 

For now, Beverly sat within her office, running over the same questions that had presented themselves as things began to spiral out of control. The recreation in the holodeck did bring up questions that made no sense. It seemed clear to her that the Vodindi had been poisoned or at least tampered with, but the question was why. And if it had been spiked, for better use of the word, why had it effected Data? Nearly fourteen years of knowing the android, Beverly knew it was utterly impossible for a simple drink to disable Data the way it had. 

While the main care of the second officer went to Geordi, the doctor had been a part of a very small team that could fix Data in the case of a malfunction. Though she didn’t have the engineering and mechanical know how that Geordi and Data did, Beverly had learned a lot over the years and that knowledge was serving her now. Something else was going on here, something big enough that the Enterprise’s android second officer needed to be incapacitated. 

It was something they would need to discuss. Why would the Orosians want to drug them in this fashion? What was the advantage of drugging the people that they themselves had asked to help? The red head shook her head, trying to make the questions stop coming so that she could concentrate on her work. Her next assignment was that of the Louvre, a small medical supply ship that was making runs to those planets and colonies that were being infiltrated by the Dominion. On paper it seemed like such a minor mission, but Beverly knew the impact of what this would mean for the Federation. 

These types of missions were probably the most dangerous, as the Cardassians were always on the lookout for any type of Starfleet ship that would wander into their territory. In a way, this assignment worried Beverly more than any that she had undertaken. She knew how brutal the Cardassians could be and she had barely been able to escape imprisonment the last time, though Jean-Luc had not been so lucky. Just thinking about that mission made the doctor close her eyes; even as they tried to discover what was going on, the captain sat within a Starfleet brig, awaiting the next part of his sentence. 

“Knock it off, Beverly,” she chided herself. “You’ve got work to do.” 

It took her another twenty minutes to finish reading and typing the necessary reports before she could sit back and think. With a pang of guilt, she realized she hadn’t even begun to offer condolences to the victims’ families after what had happened. She figured the offer wouldn’t be appreciated, however she didn’t want to come across as the cold, calculating person that had stared back at her as she murdered her medical staff. Even now, almost a month after the incident, Beverly could still see her image from that video… 

Again, shaking herself from her melancholy, the doctor braced herself for what she was about to do – view the list of those that had been killed. “Computer,” she said, wearily. “Display the listing of officers attacked aboard the Enterprise, stardate 56723.7.” 

“Those files cannot be accessed.” 

That was interesting. “State the reason the files can’t be accessed.” 

“Those files are restricted to priority one access.” 

“Are you kidding!?” Beverly blurted, shock clearly on her face and within her tone. 

“Please restate the question.” 

Beverly barely restrained a huff before answering the computer’s request. “Why are those files restricted?” she asked. 

“Reason is unknown.” 

Now Dr. Crusher was _convinced_ something was going on. She could understand the documents being restricted to keep the prying eyes of the public from seeing them, but priority one status? “Computer,” she said. “Access restricted files, Crusher 946 Alpha Delta.” 

“Access is denied.” 

“Why?” 

“Only authorized Starfleet personnel have access.” 

“Name those personnel that have access.” 

“That information is classified.” 

Beverly sat back within her chair, thinking. While the initial idea of keeping others from these files was within Starfleet’s power, the fact that she, as one of the defendants, could not access it was not only curious, but also a bit alarming. “Computer, location of Counselor Troi?” 

“Counselor Troi is in her quarters.” 

Tapping the com-badge on her chest, Beverly said, “Crusher to Troi.” 

“Troi here.” 

“Deanna, I have a favor to ask you,” the doctor began. 

“Sure.” 

“Would you see if you can get access to any of the files that directly relate to our recent troubles?” 

“Okay,” the counselor began, slowly. “Is there a reason I’m doing that?” 

“I want to see if you get the same response I do,” Beverly replied. “Let me know the minute you either get in or don’t.” 

“Okay,” Deanna said, confusion easily heard through the communication system. “Troi out.” 

Beverly sat back and waited, wondering if Deanna would get the same type of response she had. The few questions that had been plaguing her and the others were now growing with every passing second. Only five minutes later did her com-badge go off. “Troi to Crusher.” 

“Crusher here.” 

“We have a problem.” 

“I figured as much,” the doctor muttered. “Computer, location of Commander Data.” 

“Commander Data is in science lab four.” 

“Crusher to Data.” 

“Data here.” 

“Are you busy?” Crusher asked. “I need to see you right away.”

  


* * *

  


Lt. Commander Data loved a good mystery. 

In his goal to get just the right balance between his android makeup and that of being human, there were many things that Data loved about the human race. Mysteries were one. For him, mysteries were easily solved in a logical sense. It was a matter of seeing the problem and then solving it with the available tools that were presented to you. 

But from the time he walked aboard the starship Enterprise, the second officer had been presented with many a mystery in which could not be solved by just looking at the problem and solving it. Captain Picard had taught him how to “follow the clues” that were undoubtedly left by the suspect; from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, he learned that even the simplest of details could lead a detective to the eventual conclusion of a case. 

There had been mysteries, both on the ship and off, that had seemed so bizarre and unsolvable that turned out to be based in the simple, once the clues had been discovered. In the case of this mystery, the clues seemed to either be hidden or missing. As someone who enjoyed the guise as being the great detective of lore, Data had to admit he was quite baffled. There were questions that seemed to hold nor give way to any answers, clues that presented themselves just as quickly as they disappeared, and suspects with no knowledge of the events that had taken place. 

After pinpointing their next course of action to that of finding the waiter who served them, Data and Geordi headed off to one of the science labs to try and get the name of the personnel that were assigned to the starbase. To their great surprise, neither of them could get any listings, not even for the personnel of Starbase 97; they all seemed to have been on restrictive access. “Curious,” the android murmured, after a second time trying to get access proved futile. “Why would those records be restricted?” 

“You think it was to keep the public from learning all the torrid details to all this?” Geordi asked. 

“Perhaps,” Data replied, a look of confusion on his face. “It still does not explain why the personnel of Starbase 97 is restricted. Under normal circumstances, the crew roster for any Starfleet vessel or base can be accessed, unless the assignment is deemed classified.” 

“Something’s up, Data,” Geordi replied. He hadn’t liked the situation from the word go and things just seemed to be getting worse and worse. “I can understand the files being blocked to keep the general public looking through stuff, but we’re the defendants! How’re we supposed to plead our case if we can’t even get a look at them?” 

“Geordi, as an old Earth expression goes,” Data began, pulling a data cable from one of the desk drawers. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” 

The engineer watched as his friend began to go through the process of setting himself up to download information from the computer and into his neural net. “What’re you doing?” he asked. 

Data looked at him, the right side panel of his head removed in order to attach the cable. “What does it look like I am doing?” 

Geordi shook his head. “Commander Riker’s not gonna like this,” he said. “He specifically said not to do anything under the radar.” His friend gave him a look, one that clearly said those were not the commander’s words. 

“Do you want these files or not?” 

“I do.” 

“Okay then,” Data replied, offering his friend grin. “Do not worry, Geordi. I will be in and out, just to find out what we need and no one will be the wiser.” 

“You’ve gotten sneakier since that emotion chip of yours,” the engineer joked. 

“Thank you.” 

The two set about connecting Data to the computer, a task they had done thousands of times before when they needed quick information on something. Data did in fact have the power to interface with the computer systems on any ship, any computer, anywhere; however it was also a task that he did not engage in on a daily basis. His ethical subroutines were always in place to tell him right from wrong, even when the right thing was wrong and the wrong thing was right. 

In times when he acted against what some would perceive as the right or wrong course of action, even he wondered if what he was doing was correct. Since the installation of his emotion chip, he felt those feelings on a much deeper level than ever before. While he knew the difference between right and wrong, with the emotion chip, he was much more adamant on his feelings. It wasn’t unusual for the second officer to go back on some of the adventures he had aboard the Enterprise and go over them again with his emotion chip enabled, just to see what type of reaction he would have had if he had the emotions at the time. It was a good exercise, as Deanna would say, on resolving some of the emotional conflicts he may have felt at one time or another. 

In this instance, where he was willingly trying to gain access to restricted materials from the very organization that he worked for, was every bit as wrong as an outsider would state. But even if Data did not have the emotion chip installed or turned on at the moment, he would have known that this was the right course of action. As Geordi had mentioned, there were of course protocols involved in keeping certain materials from the public’s eye. 

However, these documents actually did pertain to them and as the defendants, they did have certain rights in obtaining those documents. The very fact that it seemed as though even the most unimportant facts were being hidden alerted the android nothing was as it seemed. After several minutes of trying to get through the security enabled programming, was Data able to finally gleam some relevant information. 

Unfortunately, the information didn’t seem to be any more helpful than what they had now. 

“Anything?” Geordi asked, as the second officer began to unplug himself. Data looked up to answer, when a communication came across his com-badge. 

“Crusher to Data.” 

“Data here,” he answered, wondering what the doctor could need him for. 

“Are you busy? I need to see you right away.” 

“We are on the way,” Data replied, sharing a look with the engineer. “Data out.” 

“That sounded serious,” Geordi said. 

“In light of my own discovery,” Data began. “I am anxious to discover what it is Dr. Crusher needs to see me for.” 

“Your discovery? What discovery?” 

“That, dear Watson, I have a feeling we will learn upon meeting the good doctor.”

  


* * *

  


By the time Geordi and Data had arrived in sickbay, Riker, Deanna, and Worf were already standing in Dr. Crusher’s office, along with the doctor, waiting for their arrival. “Data,” Beverly said, seeing the second officer and the chief engineer come through the door and head her way. “Could I do an experiment with you?” 

“Does this have anything to do with the restrictive access to any files pertaining our recent situation in which we have barely escaped imprisonment?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh well then,” the android said, a grand sense of relief washing over him all of a sudden, a tension filled him almost immediately before Crusher could finish her sentence. For a moment there… “Experiment away.” 

“I take it you’ve run into a similar situation?” asked Will. 

Data nodded, before turning to the doctor. “I assumed when you called me that you had encountered a similar result.” 

“We are accused of killing nearly fifty people on this ship,” Beverly began. “And yet I can’t seem to find a single record of any of their names or even family members to offer condolences. Along with that, any reports on our ‘little transgression’ seemed to be restricted, plus the medical reports. You would think someone from Starfleet medical would’ve made a report about this.” 

“That is not all,” Data replied. “The personnel files for Starbase 97 are also restricted.” 

“As in _all_ of the personnel files?” Deanna asked, incredulously. Data nodded. “How did you find that out?” 

The second officer thought about his response to that. Ordinarily, he may have stated the actual process of what he had done. Years of studying human behavior and being around humans had taught him that sometimes he tended to babble; he had also learned there were times in which to be direct and times to be vague. 

“With great difficulty,” he replied, not going into just how difficult it had been to get through every single layer of protection that the file he needed required. It had been quick, no doubt – and certainly he would need to speak with the communications center on their lack of actual strongly coded security – but it was time that ticked away while he did it. 

Despite trying to be vague about what he had actually done, it came to no one’s surprise that desperate times called for desperate measures. It didn’t mean Will had to like it though. “Data…” 

“It was for good intentions,” the second officer interrupted. He had of course expected a lecture; he didn’t want one, but he expected it. “And I will not do it again. Today. Back to the matter at hand…” 

“What do we do now?” asked Worf, his frustration beginning to climb. “If all of our attempts to get to the bottom of this are going to be blocked, we must find a way around them. Or preferably, _through_ them.” 

“There is another problem,” Data began. 

“Well,” Beverly intoned, sarcastically. “The more, the merrier.” 

“I attempted to locate our friend from the reception…” 

“And?” asked Geordi. 

“While I did receive a name,” the android continued. “I am afraid that his location could not be gathered from what was on record. In other words, he is gone.” 

“Gone?” Riker spat. “Gone where?” 

“That was the…uh…bad news,” Data said. “For all intents and purposes, he has simply disappeared.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TNG episode - The Big Goodbye


	8. Chapter VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Enterprise senior staff learn how their nightmare played out.

##  **Chapter VII**

_The Past_

_“Are you kidding?”_

_This…had to be a joke. A sick, twisted, unfunny joke, but a joke none the less. The seven members that made up the senior staff of the Enterprise NCC-1701-E usually liked jokes; first officer Will Riker was known to tell funny ones on occasion and second officer Data usually always messed up the punchline of one. Yes, the senior commanding officers of the flagship to the Federation usually liked jokes._

_They did not like this one._

_They had each been woken up from an otherwise peaceful night’s rest and then individually led down to the ship’s brig, which is where they all stood now. After being placed inside, the High Constable of Oros, a Helseth Snerrub had announced that they were held prisoner on several accounts of not only misconduct befitting a Starfleet officer, but treason and murder._

_The announcement had stunned them all into silence until Data blurted the first thing that formed on his tongue. “Are you kidding?” he asked, staring at the tall Orosian on the other side of the force field. Quickly turning to look at the captain, the first officer, and that of the former security chief, Data asked a similar question. “He is kidding, right?” He then turned back towards Snerrub. “You are kidding, right?”_

_“I’m afraid this is no joking matter, Mr. Data,” Snerrub replied. “I assure you that you will be prosecuted for your crimes to the highest degree.”_

_“Constable,” Jean-Luc replied, gaining an inner calm that threaten to spiral if he didn’t control it. He could sense the outburst just waiting to be spoken from Worf’s lips, as well as any protests that the others would lodge against their…’host’. It was important, even in these circumstances, to lead by example._

_“I assure you that whatever has happened, must be some sort of miscommunication.”_

_“I have heard that you humans resort to violence when being…misunderstood.”_

_The snide remark was not appreciated, especially not in the context in which the constable had addressed it. Picard held up a hand to forestall any word he knew the others had lined up for rebuttal. “Constable,” he said. “I assume you have some type of evidence in which these…accusations are founded.”_

_“We do indeed, Captain,” the alien replied. “In fact, it was one of your own officers who brought the…situation to our attention.”_

_“What type of evidence?” Worf snarled._

_“Video, Commander,” Snerrub replied. “We have video surveillance of you killing your own staff and that of our ambassador. My people are still gathering together what we can, while trying to work through the…horror of what has transpired here.”_

_“Constable Snerrub,” Picard began. “Let us talk about this. Until this very moment, we had no idea as to what was going on. At least let my staff and I discuss what could have possibly happened.”_

_“And I shall grant you that time, Picard,” Snerrub said. “As I said, I have been trying to get in touch with your Starfleet officials. When I do, I will request a representative on your behalf; then you will see what I have and believe me, Captain, if you have somehow forgotten the atrocities that you have brought upon your own ship, you will remember soon enough.”_

_With that, Snerrub stalked off, leaving only the on duty ensign to watch over anyone in the brig._

_“I want answers,” Picard hissed. “And I want them now.” The result of his inquiry was that of either stunned silence or hemming and hawing as they tried to explain a situation they had no explanation for it. “Enough,” Picard muttered, stopping the commotion. “Now obviously something of grave implications has happened and it is clear that none of us have any ideas about **how** it has happened. So let us think of this logically and rationally and start at the beginning. Data, what is the last memory you have of our whereabouts?”_

_Where usually the second officer would have a ready answer for anything asked of him, this time the answer failed him. Data opened his mouth to provide that answer, unfortunately he was drawing a blank. He was having enough difficulty remembering the last place **he** had been. “Uh…” he stumbled. “We…we had a meeting in the observation lounge the other day. Right?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And then…” Again, the android drew a blank. What did they do after the observation lounge? “I…had bridge duty? Yes! Yes, I did! And…Dr. Crusher relieved me! Or was it Counselor Troi?”_

_“I don’t remember leaving the observation lounge,” Deanna supplied._

_“I don’t even remember being **in** the observation lounge,” groused Beverly._

_An angered growl came from Worf. “This is unacceptable,” he stated. “Clearly something sinister is at work here.”_

_“I’m inclined to agree with you, Mr. Worf,” Picard said, turning to face the wall opposite to him. “There is clearly something wrong when Data has trouble remembering even a minor detail as to where we may have been at any given time. I agree that this situation is not one that I would have imagined **any** of us in, however we are indeed in it and I want to know how we got here!”  _

_“What day is this?” Will asked, looking around._

_“What does that matter?” grunted Worf._

_“Just tell me the day.”_

_“Thursday,” Beverly responded, looking up at Data. “I think.”_

_“That certainly corresponds with what my internal chronometer reads,” the second officer replied. “It should only be two days after our first initial meeting with the Orosian delegation and only a day after we sat down and discuss ways in which to help…their…planet.”_

_“Data?” Picard turned as the second officer began to trail off._

_“I…” Data said, slowly, his eyes flickering back and forth, a sign that he was accessing information. “I do not remember meeting with the delegation again aboard the ship.”_

_“I’m having trouble remembering how we got back to the ship,” the chief engineer muttered._

_“This is impossible,” Worf huffed. “What could have possibly happened in the span of two days in which we cannot remember a single one of them?” Brushing past the android officer, the former security chief strode to the force field. “Ensign Fowler,” he said, startling the young man who was seated at the controls. The ensign quickly made his way in front of the field, secretly glad that it separated him from the group inside._

_You don’t go through Starfleet and not learn about the people and the careers of the Enterprise crew. And if what Fowler had heard was to be believed…though he did try and talk his way out of duty that day. Who knew what kind of rage either the Klingon or the android officers could go into? And wasn’t the counselor a mind reader or something?_

_“What day is this?”_

_“Uh…” Fowler stuttered. “Uh…it’s, it’s Sunday, sir.”_

_All the occupants looked at him. “Are you…absolutely sure?” asked Data._

_“Yes?” squeaked the young officer._

_Worf let out a growl of frustration, one that just got on the nerves of his companions, but served to rattled Fowler, who immediately began reaching for his phaser. Picard managed to shout a warning to Worf before also approaching the force field and that of the young officer._

_“Ensign,” he began. “I apologize for Mr. Worf, but as you imagine, this situation has of course put us a little on edge. Hasn’t it, Worf?” The Klingon just grunted, earning a look from the captain. “Now,” Jean-Luc continued. “Ensign Fowler, was it? Would you be so kind as to tell me today’s stardate?”_

_Fowler relaxed slightly, knowing that the request was paramount to an order and as scared as he was, the younger man knew to not go against the captain. “It’s stardate 56733.4, sir.” Again, the senior staff seemed at a loss at the answer they received._

_“Thank you, Ensign,” Picard replied, distractedly. The younger man nodded, backing away slowly towards his control station and sitting down. He’d have to make sure to watch these guys. In the brig cell itself, the news of the stardate was obviously extremely distressing to the seven enclosed within._

_“This is serious,” Riker deadpanned._

_“I would certainly say so,” Picard replied. “Merde. Data, are you sure your chronometer is working correctly?”_

_“No, I am not!” the android stressed, clearly climbing the ladder to extreme panic._

_“Commander Data, you will calm down this instant!” Picard exclaimed. They could not afford to lose themselves. “Now it is very important that we do not panic,” he said, calmly. “We cannot afford to lose ourselves. Obviously, there is something very wrong here, as indicated by our friends Snerrub and Ensign Fowler. The important thing is to learn how we got in this situation because I certainly want to know why the seven of us have no memories of the last week.”_

  


* * *

  


_Another thirty minutes passed in which the seven occupants of the third brig cell sat and or paced in their small space. Their situation seemed to be getting worse and worse every moment they sat within; the time they spent was trying to recall what had happened between the time they had arrived on the orbital space station of Starbase 97 to where they were now._

_Second officer Data had taken to pacing, a habit that he had picked up from his human counterparts. Out of all of them, he was probably the most distressed at the turn of events. His positronic matrix usually kept a detailed record of all events that passed before him and it would take a very knowledgeable individual to be able to disengage him the way he had been._

_The memory loss of his companions was equally as worse, but some how easily explained or at least could be; **his** memory loss however could not be. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any reasonable explanation as to how this had transpired. For ten of those thirty minutes, the android had paced back and forth, trying his damnedest to remember what he had done, who he had talked to, and just what in hell had happened._

_The seven still remained in their cell, each trying to think over the information they had just received. Both Beverly and Deanna shared a back bench with Picard, all three watching as the android paced back and forth in front of them. Will stood learning again the wall on the left with Geordi, while Worf stood against the opposite wall._

_“Data,” Picard sighed, watching as the officer passed before him for the eighth time. While he understood that everyone was of course upset, the captain felt that his second officer was taking this quite hard. Standing, he stepped in front of the pacing man, startling him when he came back around for another pass._

_“Captain?”_

_“Stop pacing and sit down,” the Frenchman replied, putting a fatherly hand on the second officer’s arm and steering him towards the seat he had just vacated. “Or at least, let someone else pace for a while.”_

_Data was clearly disappointed that he was being relegated to sitting down, but he none the less did as his captain suggested and made his way towards the bench that both women officers sat upon. Where Data has ceased his pacing, Picard quickly resumed it._

_“As Will has expertly stated,” Picard began, taking the same path Data had earlier. “This is indeed very serious. If our friend the constable is to be believed, there are some serious charges going to be put against us and I would like to know why. It is obviously and becoming painfully clear that whatever has been done to us has been done so with such precision that even Data’s memory had to be erased._

_“There is obviously some reason or explanation as to why this is happening and why our involvement was needed in it.” The captain halted his pace in order to gaze at his officers. “Thoughts?” he asked. “Suggestions?”_ _Usually when asked, the senior staff had ready made ideas and answers for him; currently, everyone seemed to be drawing a blank. The captain’s questions were only met by several minutes of silence. “Well, this is ridiculous,” Beverly huffed. “Nothing happens without a reason, especially on this ship.”_

_“Well, give us a reason then,” Geordi responded._

_“I don’t have one!” the doctor exclaimed._

_“Beverly,” Picard stressed, trying to ease the tension that everyone was feeling at the moment. “Let’s go over possibilities. Were we drugged? Poisoned? Have we undergone some sort of memory removal?”_

_“All possibilities are valid, sir,” Data replied. “The question that remains is how those possibilities may have occurred and why.”_

_“We will certainly not find out any answers if we are to remain here,” Worf said._

_“Well,” Jean-Luc sighed. “If the constable keeps his word, we’ll be able to view this so-called evidence that he has on us.”_

_“Do you think it’s true, Captain?” Will asked, speaking for the first time since Snerrub had left. “Do you think we could have done what it is Snerrub is saying we did?” It was a question that no one had asked yet, however it was the same question that was at the forefront of their thoughts. And leave it to Will Riker to ask the tough question, as it were._

_The others looked at the first officer as he asked, before turning their gaze to their captain. And while he counted the six that stood in this room with his as some of his greatest and most cherished friends, Jean-Luc still held an air of authority and guidance above them. If he believed they would get out of this mess, they would believe it too; if he showed that he felt things were against them, they would certainly feel it as well._

_Taking in a deep a breath, he addressed his first officer, however he made a point of glancing around at the others. “Do I believe that anyone in this room is capable of senseless murder?” he whispered. “No, Number One, I do not. No one in this room has the heart nor the **desire** to randomly go about killing people, especially people that we know, that we work with, and that we count among our friends._

_“Do I believe that we have somehow been maneuvered in some way? Yes, I do,” he continued. “And I believe that very strongly. For some…unfathomable reason, we have been placed in this situation and…”_

_Movement on the other side of the force field alerted the senior staff that someone was here to greet them. In fact, a small group of security personal lead by acting security chief, Lt. Buck Masters stood waiting outside, along with constable Snerrub. Lt. Masters, who had been out sick during the visit by the Orosians and that of the banquet on Starbase 97, seemed to be in better health at this point that when last taking over for Lt. Daniels._

_Masters was a short man, only standing at five feet and six inches, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for it with his speed, agility, and strength. His mid-thirties age put him at peak performance, while his sandy blonde hair and brown eyes made him fairly attractive to both sexes._

_To look at him, one wouldn’t think this was someone you would want to put in charge of security – and to those around the shorter man, that was the impression that Snerrub was giving off – but many had said the same thing about Lt. Thom Daniels; they had said the same about Tasha Yar too._

_The look Buck gave his comrades was one of sorrow and remorse. He had just come back on duty about a few hours ago after getting a run of the mill allergic reaction to some of the plants within Hydroponics and this was the scene that greeted him. So far, there was talk all over the ship about how the senior staff had been led single file down to the brig, though no one knew the cause._

_For him, at least, he was just lucky that ensigns loved to gossip or else he wouldn’t know why he was being called to the brig to escort some very ‘dangerous prisoners’ to the observation lounge. Hearing that – especially when it wasn’t from the captain or any other senior officer – Masters got his best team, all of whom had worked or been trained by Worf or Daniels, and hurried to the brig, expecting some sort of attack._

_It wasn’t until he ran into Fowler did he know the actual occupants._

_Nodding to the ensign on duty, the acting chief watched as the energy force that separated the groups shimmered out of existence. “I’m really sorry about this, Captain,” he apologized in his light English accent, grimacing as he watched all seven members of the upper staff begin to file out._

_“You’re just going to let them out?” Snerrub protested. “They should be handcuffed or at least prevented from moving in such a free space.”_

_“Now listen here,” the chief retorted. “This is my brig and I’ll treat prisoners the way I want. If you wanted them shackled, should’ve put them in your own brig, shouldn’t ya?”_

_The clearing of a throat, one Buck immediately recognized as Picard’s, did bring him down a bit, but he was still feeling a bit incensed. Just who did this guy think he was? “In any event,” the man continued. “I’ve served under these people for years and I’ll treat them with the respect they deserve. You needn’t worry; anyone gets out of line and we’ll handle them. We were trained by the best and you’d better believe that.”_

_It was clear that Snerrub didn’t like getting the brush off and he certainly didn’t enjoy being talked to in the manner that he had. “I hope for your sake they don’t ‘get out of line’, Lieutinent,” the alien groused, before making his way past the group and presumably heading for the obs lounge._

_“Annoying little twat, isn’t he?” grumbled Buck, scowling as the alien left._

_“Manners, Lieutenant,” Picard replied, doing his best not to chuckle at the indignant response that Masters had given. “Apparently, that is the man who holds our very fates in his hands.”_

_“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said. “Sorry sir, about this whole thing. It isn’t right, whatever it is.”_

_“What’s happening on the outside, Bucky?” asked Geordi, as the group began to follow the agitated alien._

_“Not sure,” the acting chief whispered, making a point to keep the conversation within the group itself. Despite evidence of something sinister going on, everyday life was resuming onboard the Enterprise, as crew members went about their tasks and assignments. Some did do double takes as to the presence of a security detail along with the senior staff, wondering if something was going on that could be trouble._

_Lt. Myers, who was a part of the group that had been summoned by Masters, made sure to address any onlookers as to what the situation was and that there was nothing to worry about._

_“I’ve been sick, you know,” Master continued. “You were right, Doc, those Logit dayfeds wreaked havoc on my sinuses. Today’s the first time I’ve been able to get up and running and I come into this.”_

_“The crew has no knowledge of what’s going on?” Picard asked. This was worse than he thought._

_“I barely found out the seven of you were in the can,” Buck replied. “And before that, I was getting weird reports that people are missing.”_

_“Missing?” Riker asked, to which Masters nodded._

_“Missing how?” asked Deanna._

_“Who exactly is missing?” asked Data._

_“Keep your shirts on,” Buck muttered, glancing at people who were passing by. The group had successfully made it to a nearby turbo lift without being stopped or questioned, which for Masters was a God send. Addressing the other two officers with him, he said, “Take the lift at the C junction and meet me up outside the corridor of obs. And try to keep Mr. High and Mighty occupied; don’t want him yapping about how the senior staff’s gone and murdered me in the lift.”_

_The two officers nodded their understanding before heading off, right as the lift opened. The space was of course tight for eight, but it was a risk that Masters needed and wanted to take if he wanted to know what was going on. As long as Daniels was out, he was acting security chief and thus a part of the senior staff, even with Worf there. As soon as their trip got underway, Masters ordered the computer to halt the lift._

_“Crew members are missing?” Picard asked, bringing their conversation back._

_“Aye, Captain,” replied the blonde. “At this point, I couldn’t tell you who, but it does seem like some of the lower decks are up and vanishing. I noticed it too when I saw Fowler down there; he wasn’t scheduled for that watch, but Lt. Fren is missing, so are about six people in security. And apparently half of Engineering has up and gone.”_

_This new piece of information only seemed to corroborate what Snerrub had told them earlier. It was one thing to think that perhaps there was some mistake, but now members of the crew were unaccounted for and it wasn’t like crew members to suddenly take off._

_“Bucky,” Will asked. “What’s our current position?”_

_“We’re still hovering around that Oros planet.”_

_“We’re still here?” Deanna asked, quietly, surprised they were still in the same orbit they were in a week ago._

_“I didn’t think we’d be on shore leave here,” Buck replied. “In fact, I didn’t think we had shore leave for another few months at least. And this certainly isn’t the place I’d want to call a vacation.”_

_“Lieutenant,” the captain asked. “Has anything unusual happened in the last week? I mean, aside from the missing crew. I know that you’ve probably been in your quarters resting, but can you recall anything, anything at all that may have happened?”_

_“Well,” Masters began. “There was an incident that happened about…two days after that banquet. I couldn’t tell you what the issue was, only that I’m convinced we fired on something.”_

_“Lieutenant, what did we fire on?” asked Data. Masters just shrugged._

_“Who did we fire **at**?” Will questioned, turning to look at Picard. “Another ship?”_

_“At this point, Number One,” Picard whispered. “I don’t look forward to finding out.”_

_Seeing that their conversation was over, Masters resumed the lift again. The rest of the trip was done in silence. Things seemed to be falling into places that the crew didn’t want; they were accused of killing members of the Enterprise crew and members were currently missing, they were accused of firing on the peaceful side of Oros and now they learned the ship had indeed fired upon something or someone._

_The group was somber as the lift stopped in one of the side corridors; Masters had the presence of mind to take the lift to the side entrance that would lead the group into the observation lounge without taking the route through the bridge, a sensible thing seeing as the rest of the crew had no idea as to what was going on._

_Upon entering the lounge, the group was met by both the constable of Oros as well as a middle aged Vulcan dressed in a Starfleet uniform. The two other security officers nodded as the group entered; Masters spoke to them, saying, “Go stand outside and make sure no one gets nosey. I’ll take the side.” He looked to the captain, “Just let me know if you need anything, sir.”_

_Picard shook the younger man’s hand. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said. “If possible, please look into the matter that we discussed earlier.”_

_“Of course, sir,” the blonde nodded. “Good luck.”_

_The security personnel left the room, leaving just the senior staff, the constable, and the Vulcan. “Captain Picard,” the Vulcan replied, nodding to the group. “I am Lieutenant L’Nal, representing the Judge Advocate General’s office under that of Admiral Jordan Peters. I was contacted by Starfleet Command after they heard what has happened here.”_

_“Greetings Lieutenant,” Picard said. “I wish the situation was a better one to meet your acquaintance.”_

_“Agreed.”_

_“If we may proceed, gentlemen and ladies,” Snerrub said, impatiently. He immediately took the head chair and started to bring up the video surveillance, ignorant of the annoyed look that Jean-Luc shot him for taking his chair._

_“You can take my chair, sir,” Data whispered, sending his own look at the alien. The group moved to their various positions around the table – Will, Deanna, and Geordi in their customary positions, – though Will had moved down a chair in order to accommodate Lt. L’Nal - while Picard, Worf, Beverly, and Data took to the other side. Snerrub looked to his left, where the Vulcan sat and readied to begin his tale._

_“These are serious charges that Constable Snerrub is lodging against you and your crew, Capt. Picard,” the lieutenant began. “I am here on the behalf and behest of Starfleet Command to reach an understanding of what has happened here. From what I am told, the people of Oros were seeking help from the Federation. May I ask the reason?”_

_“As you may know, Lt. L’Nal,” Snerrub started. “A portion of my planet is under the control of that which you call the Dominion. It was our leaders hope that, with our admission request to join you, that perhaps we could offer you help in this matter. We have been able to keep those beings on one side of the planet, but I will admit that we are worried that they will eventually come to our more peaceful side._

_“Our leaders had hoped that with our combined strength,” the constable continued. “We could push back or even repel these forces. You would of course have our help in your own endevours.” Turning a hateful gaze on the senior staff, Snerrub said, “We came to you in peace, Lieutenant; and these…officers treated it with scorn.”_

_“That is a lie,” Worf growled._

_“Is it?” countered the constable. Turning to the Vulcan representative, the alien began to enter in the sequence that would bring up the video surveillance he had promised to show them. “Let me set the scene for you, Lt. L’Nal,” he continued. “A few days after your Starfleet hosted a banquet in supposed honor of our people, the Enterprise fired on our planet. Here is the record of that.”_

_The group turned to the side view screen that was stationed behind those on the left. The image was of a long range sensor scan that reportedly had come from the planet itself. “At approximately 17 hours and 27 minutes,” Snerrub said. “Our long range sensors detected that some sort of object was headed towards our planet. Shortly afterwards, one of our subspace communication stations was hit by a photon torpedo.”_

_“That is circumstancial,” Worf replied with a smirk. “You have already told us that the other side of your planet is being controlled by the Dominion; it can be easily established that the attack came from them or one of their ships.”_

_The constable returned the Klingon’s smirk with one of his own. Typing once more, the screen turned to show another page of the report. “While we are still cleaning up the mess that you have made,” Snerrub sneered. “We have identified the remnants of the torpedo to that of a Federation design. And as you can clearly see from the reports, only the Enterprise was within orbit and this ship could have fired the torpedo.”_

_“You will of course allow us to verify this with our torpedo banks,” Picard stated._

_“Of course,” L’Nal said. “When we are finished here, I would advise having a team go over the computer information for that timeframe.”_

_“I haven’t finished,” Snerrub interrupted._

_“Please continue, Constable Snerrub.”_

_“Following this blatant attack,” the constable continued. “Ambassador Rilos was called in to try and discover what had transpired. He naturally contacted Capt. Picard from our communications relay. I have of course made a copy of it for you to hear, Lieutenant.” Another series of keys were pressed and the audio transmission began to play._

“Capt. Picard!” _exclaimed the agitated and distressed Ambassador._ “What is the meaning of this? Why have you fired upon my planet?” 

“Forgive me, Ambassador,” _the captain’s voice replied, easily identified as that of the Frenchman._ “We seem to be having some sort of computer malfunction. I assure you that it was not our intention to fire upon the planet. Perhaps you would like to come aboard and we can discuss this further.” 

“Very well, Captain,” _the Ambassador sighed._ “I do have some knowledge with computer systems, though I’m sure it is probably nothing compared to your trained engineers.” 

“We shall take all the help that we can, Ambassador. We will meet you within transporter room two. Enterprise out.” 

_L’Nal looked at the captain, who sat across from him. “Can you verify the voices within this recording, Captain?”_

_Throughout the recording, everyone seemed to grow pale while listening. Picard couldn’t deny that it was indeed his voice that was coming through the obs speakers, but inwardly he couldn’t remember anything that was said. “I cannot deny that the voices you hear are that of myself and that of Ambassador Rilos,” he whispered. “I however do not recall having this conversation.”_

_“Interesting,” the Vulcan murmured. Nodding to Snerrub, he said, “What happened next?”_

_“I think it better for you to **see** what happened, rather than explain.”_

_The screen changed from that of the sensor reports to a camera view of a small room, assumedly that of transporter room two. There was no transporter chief standing behind the console, which was a bit troubling to the senior staff as there **should have** been someone there. The room’s doors opened, showing both Capt. Picard and Cmdr. Riker walking through. Riker walked to the console and began the process of transporting someone to the pad that was at the upper portion of the screen._

_In a few moments, three beings began to materialized on the pad, while Riker joined Picard as he waited for them to solidify. Once transported, the figures of Rilos and his two aides from the banquet – constables Logi and Sul – appeared. Rilos had taken a few steps and was saying,_ “Now Captain, what has…” _before Picard shot him with a phaser had just pulled from a side holster, causing the Orosian to fall back._

_Riker quickly took care of the other two until all three Orosians lay dead on the transporter pad._

_Seven people in the present room were quite shocked by what they saw. That was definitely Capt. Picard in that frame shooting down the chosen ambassador to the planet of Oros and that was definitely Cmdr. Riker that stood beside him, shooting down the Constable Logi and Constable Sul._

_“This is quite distressing,” the Vulcan replied, looking around at the others. “Captain, are you able to verify or deny those individuals within this video?”_

_“I do not understand what has happened here,” Picard whispered._

_“There is more,” Snerrub said. “When my team and I began to investigate the attack on our planet and what was thought of as the disappearance of the ambassador, I contacted the Enterprise and was brought onboard. It was here that one of the ship’s officers discovered the next series of videos I will show you._

_“You can imagine my horror and anger at seeing the cold blooded murder of Rilos and the others, but when I saw these, I…I can’t begin to describe what…here.”_

_The next series of video surveillance was of the attacks that were carried out on the Enterprise itself. Beginning at a time index of at least an hour before the attack on Oros, the three videos were concurrent with each other. In the first, the main area of Engineering was shown as several people went about their work and duties. Coming from the right corridor were Lt. Commanders La Forge and Data, both armed and both looking determined at what their next moves would be. They hadn’t even completed rounding the corner before they began to fire into the groups of people who were milling around, a few of their shots ricocheting off the side panels and walls._

_Those that were struck fell to the floor; those that tried to escape were repeatedly shot It was six minutes and twenty seconds of carnage, which was only matched by the seven minutes in which Worf seemed to go on a rampage within a holodeck simulation. His video was possibly the more violent of the three, as he seemed to tear apart several people with his bare hands._

_The concluding video was set in sickbay and was the longest at eleven minutes and nine seconds. The first few minutes seemed quiet, with only a few patients resting on biobeds and some of the sickbay staff checking on them. While the three patients that were resting hadn’t moved, the two nursing assistants and one patient that was being treated soon began to wobble before toppling to the ground._

_Emerging from Dr. Crusher’s office came two figures wearing masks; upon removal, they were shown to be Beverly and Deanna, who looked around at those that were on the ground. Crusher then handed the counselor a hypospray._

“What’s this for?” _asked the brunette._

“To make sure they’re dead,” _responded the doctor._

“I thought that was what the gas was for.” 

“Well, then when someone comes in, just take care of them.” 

“I don’t see why we couldn’t just gas the entire ship.” 

“Gas the ship?” _asked Crusher, as she made her way to one nurse that lay on the floor._ “That we’re on? Right now?” 

_Deanna rolled her eyes._ “We have masks.” 

“It’s economically feasible this way.” 

“Whatever,” _sighed the counselor._

_The video went on, however Snerrub stopped it before its eventual end. Silence was the only thing that accompanied those around the table. “As you can see, Lieutenant,” the constable whispered. “The actions are clearly laid out before you.”_

_“These are serious charges,” L’Nal replied. “Do any of you wish to dispute this?”_

_“Of course we wish to dispute this!” exclaimed Geordi. “This isn’t possible!”_

_“So then that is not you on the survillence record?” asked L’Nal._

_“Well…I mean…it’s…it’s me, I guess…”_

_“You guess, Commander?” the Vulcan asked, rather impatiently, if you could actually tell for a Vulcan. “Either it is or it is not.”_

_“We’re all a little confused,” Riker interrupted. “Yes, it…does seem to be us on the video, but…but it doesn’t make any sense!”_

_“The evidence would seem clear, Commander.”_

_“But why would we even do that?” cried Beverly. “It isn’t as though we all go around murdering our crew and people we have just met! Why would we even do this?”_

_“Agreed that the apparent motive here is unclear,” L’Nal began, but was quickly interrupted by Snerrub._

_“If I may, Lieutenant,” the constable said. “Within my investigation, I also sought to understand why the crew would do such a thing. It is of course known that the Dominion has killed many of the Federation’s own people, as well as taken over some your members’ planets. I can certainly understand the thought of…perhaps avenging those that have fallen.”_

_“Please elaborate.”_

_“Lt. Worf,” Snerrub asked. “Haven’t you just recently lost your wife to the Dominion? Was she not killed in action?” The Klingon only glared at the alien, emitting a small growl at the mention of his recent loss. “And wasn’t the planet Betazed once under the control of the Dominion? I do not know enough about the people of the planet, but I do know that Counselor Troi is from there.”_

_“What exactly are you saying, Constable?” Data asked. “That Counselor Troi and Lt. Worf  somehow perpetrated this incident in a bid for revenge? What would that accomplish? And from what you have shown, why then would the rest of us also conduct in this…massacre?”_

_“The question is valid,” L’Nal replied, turning to look at the constable. “How would you explain this?”_

_“I have spoken with members of this crew,” Snerrub said. “And even now, the security personnel deems to protect their superior officers. It has been said, has it not Lt. L’Nal, that the crew of the Enterprise is loyal to their own officers?”_

_“If we are so loyal,” Worf countered. “Why then would we kill our own crew members?”_

_“Is it not true that Capt. Picard was cleared of leading a Lt. Jack Crusher to his death?” Snerrub asked. “Isn’t it true that Cmdr. Data killed and then destroyed his own brother? That Cmdr. Riker’s brother was sacrificed to that of the Cardassians?”_

_“That’s not true!” cried Will._

_“So none of those things happened?” questioned the constable. “Your Starfleet records are wrong then.”_

_“You have yet to answer a very important question, Constable,” Picard whispered, turning a cold gaze on the alien. “And that is the answer of why. Why would we go to such trouble?”_

_“That, Captain, I have not discovered.”_

_“It is a question that needs to be looked into,” L’Nal said. “These are serious accusations, as you can clearly see. This must be reported to Starfleet Command.”_

_“This is outrageous!” Worf raged. “He is clearly lying!”_

_“And what would be the motive, Lieutenant?” asked the Vulcan._

_“Well, what’s our motive here?” Beverly cried._

_“You have an empath on your staff,” Snerrub said. “Tell me, Empath, am I lying?”_

_Everyone immediately turned to Deanna, who seemingly seemed to shrink within her chair. As a Betazoid, Deanna had the ability to telepathically connect with other people, especially other Betazoids. However, as Deanna was only half Betazoid, she could only sense emotions that resided in others; this was the reason her position of counselor was not only helpful, but extremely important. Picard and the others had often looked to her to decifer whether or not someone they came in contact with was being truthful._

_And while nothing would have given the counselor more satisfaction than reacting the way she wanted to – and thus the way the others had wanted her to – she herself needed to be truthful in this matter. “He’s telling the truth.”_

_“What!?”_

_“No!”_

_“That’s impossible!”_

_“Search your feelings,” Snerrub mocked. “You know it to be true.” Turning to the Vulcan that sat beside him, he asked, “What is to be done? Surely these acts upon your own officers must be met with your own justice system, but my people will want answers and swift punishment.”_

_“And there will be indeed,” the Vulcan replied. Addressing the senior staff, he said, “I will of course need to contact Starfleet Command about this incident and relay to them what has transpired. I cannot predict the outcome, however I do feel it would be in the best interest if the Enterprise were to begin the journey back to Earth and that of Starfleet Headquarters.”_

_“I…I believe it would be best…” Picard whispered. “If we confined ourselves to quarters until we arrive back to Starfleet. You will of course notify your relief, though I think it would be advisable that you…do not mention the reasons.”_

_“I concur with your assessment, Capt. Picard,” L’Nal replied. Pushing back his chair, the Vulcan stood along with Snerrub. “Constable, please accompany me to make my report to Starfleet; I believe your impressions on the matter would be most helpful. Captain, will you and your staff need to be escorted to your quarters?”_

_“This ship has been our home for several years, Lieutenant,” the Frenchman stated, harshly. “I can assure you we each know the way to our own quarters.”_

_“Forgive me for the contradiction, Captain,” L’Nal countered. “But the Enterprise-E is technically the new version of the Enterprise-D, your assigned ship.”_

_“I am aware of the version and make of the Enterprise, Lieutenant L’Nal,” Picard restated, resting a hand against his temple. “We will find our own way, thank you.”_

_Appropriately chastised, the Vulcan nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. “My apologises, sir. There are of course members of your security team standing outside the door.”_

_“I must protest, Lieutenant,” Snerrub contested. “I have already stated that the crew is fiercely loyal to each other. I cannot, in good faith, believe that their own officers will treat them the way you would a common murderer.”_

_“What do you suggest?”_

_“We have a very good team of security personnel,” Snerrub replied. “I would like them to be stationed onboard.”_

_“I find that solution satisfactory,” L’Nal said. “I hope there are no objections, Captain.”_

_“What ever objections there are, Lieutenant, will no doubt be heard once we arrive at Starfleet.”_

_The two men left the seven alone, sitting at the table obsorbing the enormous amount of trouble they truly were in._

_“This is not happening,” muttered the engineer._

_“You have to be wrong,” Beverly stated._

_“Why do **I** have to be wrong?” Deanna questioned, a bit annoyed at the clear accusation the doctor was throwing._

_“Because you just do!” the second officer cried. “This is insane! Of course he’s lying!”_

_“That is the only truth in this matter,” Worf agreed._

_“And why would he lie, Worf?” Deanna asked. “What plausible reason would he have to lie to not only us, but a member of Starfleet JAG?”_

_“What plausible reason would we have to murder half the crew?” Data countered._

_“It wasn’t half the crew.”_

_“Well, I am so glad you are keeping up on that.”_

_“Hey,” Riker stated, cutting off whatever retort the two had planned for each other. While it was extremely rare for the second officer and the counselor to argue with each other, since the installation of the android’s emotion chip, it was like handling a angst-ridden teenager sometimes. Data did have control on his emotions, however in times of stress – especially in a case like this – he sometimes let his feelings get away him._

_“The last thing we want is to turn on each other,” the first officer continued. “That’s gonna get us nowhere. We have to stick together on this.”_

_“Jean-Luc…”_

_The captain had sat in the chair that was normally reserved for Data, allowing for the conversation to flow around him. In a normal circumstance, he wouldn’t have allowed for the heated discussion that was taking place between his officers; in fact, it seemed as though he hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on around him. It was only Beverly’s voice that brought back his focus, however he did not remove the hand that was absently rubbing at his temple._

_“What’re we going to do?”_

_Taking a deep breath, Picard lowered his hands to rest on the table before using it to push himself wearily out of his seat. “I think in this situation,” he sighed. “I am going to go to my quarters. And I suggest that you all do the same.”_

_“But Captain…”_

_“The matter is too upsetting to even be discussing, Number One,” the captain replied. “It’s a damnedable crime, one that has clearly been played out for all us and for how we will get out of this mess, I can’t begin to tell you. All I know is, the Enterprise is on her way back to Earth, for what I can only begin to guess will be a very lengthy and embarrassing court martial._

_“For now, I want to treat this with some quiet, dignity, and grace.” With that, Jean-Luc Picard stormed out of the observation lounge, leaving a disgruntled Klingon growling at his leave, an annoyed doctor cursing his disappearance, an irritated Betazoid, a distressed engineer, an overwhelmed first officer, and a rather sarcastic android._

_“Quiet, dignity, and grace,” he muttered. “Right.”_


	9. Chapter VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While in the Starfleet brig, Capt. Picard receives another visitor. This one a little more deadly than the last.

##  **Chapter VIII**

In all his time within Starfleet, Jean-Luc Picard had never once needed to step foot within a Starfleet brig. He had managed, quite a few times actually, to avoid the prospect of spending his days within a cell than in his personal quarters or ready room on his own starship. Despite the uproar of this latest installment of ‘Enterprise Adventures’, it wasn’t the court martial that particularly worried him. 

To be frank, this was technically Picard’s _sixth_ time coming before a JAG review board, though this was certainly the first in which he was being held on the account of murder in the first degree. His first ever trial had been when he had lost his first command ship, that of the USS Stargazer and when he had lost his best friend, Jack Crusher. It wasn’t the loss of the ship that had hurt him, but that of losing Jack the way they had. 

Compounded by the fact of the young Crusher family and his own romantic feelings for Beverly, Jean-Luc didn’t think he would ever go through such a difficult time again. That was of course before he had been abducted and assimilated by the Borg; of course there had been an inquest, but it was indeed a high profile court martial, in which his Borg persona of Locutus had been on trial. 

Four years later, with the loss of the Enterprise-D, it was the second time that Picard had stood trial for losing a ship. Thank God that this time, no one had been killed. There were some minor injuries, but no one had lost their lives in the crash. Deanna had been cleared by her actions of keeping the ship together long enough to even reach a planet to crash into and Will had been absolved by his command decision to separate the saucer section. 

Above all, the entire senior staff had been cleared. 

There were of course downsides to the whole thing – Geordi had been ordered by Starfleet to rid himself of the VISOR that he wore and to upgrade to the new optical implants. That had been a hard decision, despite it being to Geordi’s advantage. The captain had never liked when Starfleet demanded that officers change their lifestyles in order to fit the image the organization was going for; it was true that there had been times in which the VISOR had been used against the engineer and against the Enterprise herself, but it wasn’t something the younger man was proud of. 

The other subject had been that of the installation of Data’s emotion chip. The android second officer had always longed to understand the underlying concepts and procedures that marked the human race and the repair and installation of the emotion chip that his father and creator had developed for him seemed like a dream come true. But, there was that saying of being careful what one wished for. 

The installation of the chip, and its seemingly bad time to malfunction, had not only put both the second officer and chief engineer in peril, but that of the entire ship and crew. Picard shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that each of them had effectively skipped over the part of the emotion chip when they had been asked during the inquest exactly how the Klingons were able to fire and get past the ship’s shields. 

It did seem like a moot point, as they were handling Data’s new entry into emotions the way they had always done when the second officer had discovered something of interest. 

These last two assignments had led the crew back into more inquests and court martials than Picard had ever faced in his entire career, the biggest being the fact that Picard had disobeyed direct orders from senior officers in regards to particular missions. It had taken him a long time, even after the inquest, to realize that he had been overzealous in wanting to destroy the Borg and in that quest, he had nearly taken the life of one of his senior staff members and most trusted friends. 

As if their first dealings with the Borg hadn’t already been traumatic for Picard, their latest dealing with them had seemingly brought out a side of the captain that he wasn’t proud of. Deanna had been on him for days after returning to the Enterprise that he discuss what happened, but he had effectively done a very good job of evading her. 

It was only on Earth, when he had visited his brother and his family that the feelings of failure, pain, and fear had come out. Picard had never felt so vulnerable before and it was a feeling he did not enjoy nor relish. Ten years later, he was still seeing those cold, metallic faces in his sleep, could still feel the fear that came from remembering that time. 

Not only did the captain have to face his inner demons, but the Borg had nearly pushed Data over the edge. 

There were new surfaces that hadn’t been explored yet when it came to feeling all the emotions that the android had been programmed with but could not actually feel. It had given the second officer a type of innocence that a child had when they were learning the lessons and ways of the world. 

That last bit of innocence seemed to have been ripped away by the time Data had been rescued from the Engineering section of the new Enterprise-E. 

Those had been particularly hard times. Their last mission in the Briar Patch had brought up some very disheartening things about Starfleet, in that there were those that would completely ignore and violate those regulations that they were supposed to be upholding. Yes, he understood they were in a war and that it was a war they were losing, but the rules and regulations were there to protect not only themselves, but those members of the Federation and those species that had yet to become a part of the organization. 

That inquest had been short, only because they were a ways from Earth and then the Orosians asking for help had sidelined them until they could appropriately return for review. For his sixth time in front of a review board, it had apparently been six times too many. But his sacrifice, he hoped, would not be in vain. He understood his action wouldn’t be approved by his colleagues and friends; he could even name, in order, those that would be highly annoyed at his choice, but it was _his_ choice. 

He was the captain, and as captain of a starship, he was responsible for the actions of his ship and his crew. Perhaps he had done it in simple defiance to Starfleet – if they couldn’t remember what it was to uphold the traditions, values, and rules, he would show them how it was done. 

Perhaps this latest tussle had shown him that maybe he was getting past his prime. He was a bit older now, a bit wiser, and certainly being on the B’aku home world had opened up his more youthful rebellious nature. It had been – dare he admit it? – fun to defy authority the way they had, even more than turning the Enterprise against the Borg. 

Overall, he had done it to spare the lives and careers of his friends, who had been destined for adjourning cells next to him. Will still had a great career as a captain ahead him and he would have been blind not to see that his first officer and his counselor had rekindled their romance once more. They deserved a chance for that to blossom and grow. 

Worf had the makings of not only a great captain, but a great ambassador, paving relations between the Federation and the Klingon High Council. Though he knew what he saw was an alternate reality, which they had changed, Picard could not get the thought out of his head of an ‘Ambassador Worf’. 

Geordi would go on to perfect just about anything he could think of. The chief engineer had high aspirations and he couldn’t achieve those while in the brig. Data too was just getting started to understand all that went on around him. If Will ever took his own command, Data would be the ideal first officer for the Enterprise. 

And then there was Beverly. 

What Picard had with her was something special, something that could not and would not thrive in solitary confinement. She had her own skills and her own path that Jean-Luc would not block should she request it. 

Oh, they all liked to think that their awards or their recommendations didn’t necessarily have to pass his desk, but Picard knew of the promotions that were turned down by his senior staff and lucrative ones at that. To date, he knew that Will had turned down his own command six times, that Deanna and Data both had turned down teaching positions, – twice for Deanna, four times for Data – that Beverly had been asked and begged to head Starfleet Medical, – just about every single year since she first held and then left the position – that Worf had been offered several posts within the Klingon military and high council, and that Geordi had been offered senior posts at various engineering plants. 

Sometimes, Jean-Luc shook his head at their audacity and simple mindedness. Were they not aware that opportunities like these only came once a lifetime? Other times he felt compelled just to shake some sense into them. _“For God’s sakes, get on with your lives! Why aren’t you all captains or better yet admirals?!”_ But, if they were being led by example, he only had himself to blame. He had his share of turning down entrances into special clubs and the admiralty. His decision to stay on as captain of the Enterprise was no more potent than when he had met the long thought deceased Captain James T. Kirk. 

_“Don’t let them promote you,” he had said. “You can make a difference as captain of the Enterprise.”_

And didn’t he do just that? Hadn’t he made a difference with the Borg? With Cochrane? With the B’aku? The B’aku/Son‘a feud especially, with him pitted against the lofty Adm. Dougherty; he certainly couldn’t say he regretted it. 

This, however, he regretted. And it wasn’t one thing or another, he regretted the _whole_ mess. He regretted that he hadn’t not been alert enough to think something could go wrong, he regretted that neither he nor anyone could remember what had happened, he regretted that people were dead because of it, and he regretted that once again he had somehow landed his crew into trouble. 

That was why he had done what he had. 

Though he meant what he had told them – that the truth still had not been told and that someone would need to find it and tell it – it was better for _him_ to be behind the force field. He trusted them to find the truth and even if they didn’t, or couldn’t, he knew they could at least go on with their careers. His was winding down; why deny the fact? And if it meant his last remaining days in Starfleet were spent in their brig, so be it. 

However it was incredibly lonely and boring. 

The captain was approaching the end of an official twenty four hours being held within this cell and the only exciting thing to happen was that he had seen Alynna Nechayev. While not what he had been expecting, he had to admit having just an outspoken and tough opponent had on his side this time around was interesting to say the least. He wasn’t exactly sure what she planned, if she planned anything, but she at least had heard the story as he knew it. 

Even as he told the tale, he could see that she wasn’t quite buying everything. A Federation ship fires on an unarmed planet, the ship’s crew not only kills the planet’s ambassador but their own crew members, and the senior staff has no recollection of it happening? Outlining it to himself, Picard found it utterly ridiculous. 

But there are some cases where one must try the ridiculous. 

There was something to be said about spending time in this cell and that was it gave him a chance to go over what little evidence there was in their defense. The Orosians had put up a very good and very damning offense, with the video evidence of the crew murdering their own and that of Picard and Riker killing the planet’s ambassador and his entourage in cold blood was more than enough to ensure that doubt was cast upon the senior staff’s testimony. 

Their memory loss was taken into some account, but it did nothing against the recorded evidence. Their explanation had easily been countered by their latest indiscretions with the B’aku and their actions with the Borg. Counsel for the prosecution had brought up only the recent transgressions that the crew of the Enterprise had partaken in, everything from Data’s manipulation by his brother and the Borg to the security breach provided by Geordi’s visor. Nothing was left bare and honestly, the captain was surprised they managed to get off at all. 

There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to any of it. It was clear that he and the crew had been set up to take the fall, but for what purpose? The Enterprise and her crew had no advantage or reason to fire upon the planet of Oros nor to kill any of her people. What reason could there possibly be to attack a planet that was seeking help? 

Much of the problem lay in the fact that there wasn’t much known about the planet and with the ongoing war with the Dominion, the effort and dedication that would be put into learning about it had not been done. The information that the Enterprise could have brought back had been lost with this assault and who knew what the aftermath of this would be. 

Picard never liked deception and avoided it as much as he could unless absolutely necessary; he most certainly did not enjoy nor like having the deception turned against him. With him here and his crew outside, he did not know what they were doing and worse, he could not help them, could not give them support and counsel should they require it. He hated not _knowing_. And there were plenty of things in this mess that they didn’t know. 

Deciding that pacing the floor wouldn’t do him any good for the moment, the Frenchman began to head to his solitary bench when he heard the distinct sounds of footsteps coming his way. While normally not a nosey person by nature, Picard couldn’t help but be curious as to who would be down here – either to visit or to be led to a cell themselves. To his surprise, the footsteps began to slow as they approached his personal cell, allowing for the young ensign on post to escort a man that seemed close to the ensign’s own age. 

The ensign nodded at Picard, punching in the code that would lower the force field that acted as a cell door. “A visitor for you, Captain, sir,” the ensign replied, nervously, giving a look to the man he had just escorted. The visitor nodded his thanks before turning back to the Frenchman he had obviously come to see. 

The man was dressed in the standard uniform of a Starfleet officer, though Picard couldn’t see any pipes that signified a ranking of any kind. He was of average height and weight, with brown hair that was slicked back, and greyish – blue eyes that seemed to bore into the captain before him. “Captain Jean-Luc Picard,” the man began, taking the steps necessary to enter the cell. 

“Born in La Barre, France on the planet Earth, Stardate July 13, 2305,” the stranger continued. “Born to Maurice and Yvette Picard, one sibling of an older brother Robert, and heir to a family vineyard. Entered Starfleet on a second attempt in 2323, interested in archeology and sports. 

“Youngest officer to be promoted to the command position of captain for the USS Stargazer; _Former_ captain of the USS Enterprise, Sovereign class NCC-1701-E. Aside from the loss of the Stargazer and the previous Enterprise, you have an immaculate record, a noted diplomat that has probably logged more first contact missions that any other starship captain in recent history.” 

“You have me at a disadvantage, sir,” Picard calmly replied. “You seem to know a great deal about me and yet, I am at a loss as to who you are. I can only guess that you are a Starfleet officer, however I have yet to see any markings of rank.” 

The younger man chuckled. “And observant,” he said. “My name and rank are of no consequence to you, Captain.” 

“On the contrary,” the Frenchman retorted. “I believe I’m entitled to know the name of my visitor, especially seeing as you seem to know me and you have been escorted to my cell without the protection of security personnel.” 

“That was the doing of some of the high brass, Captain,” the man replied. “I hardly think you are the ‘mass murderer of space’ as some may think you are. You see, Captain, I come at the behest of a very special group; a group who, like Starfleet, deems to protect the citizens of our great Federation.” 

“And does this group work for Starfleet?” 

“You could say, we are a subsidiary,” the younger man said. “But we hold the same ideals, however unlike our esteemed peers and superiors, we do what we feel is the…right course of action. In order to preserve all the rights and privileges that have been set out for the Federation.” 

Picard, who had been quietly pacing about as the younger man spoke, turned to peer at his guest. “This is all very fascinating,” replied the Frenchman. “But what exactly does any of that have to do with me?” 

The younger man smiled, before stepping closer to the imprisoned ship captain. “You are here because of a crime that you and your crew did not commit.” 

Picard’s eyes widened slightly. Could it be that this young man knew something about what was going on? And if so, was he there to offer his assistance? 

“You have been a very useful instrument for our organization, Captain.” 

“What the devil are you talking about?” Picard demanded, stepping up to the man. “If you have information that can clear the names of my crew, then as a Starfleet officer, you have a duty to that uniform to uphold…” 

“Do not lecture me on ‘protocols’, Captain Picard,” the man whispered. “I am trying to tell you something of importance here.” 

“And what would that be?” 

“Your usefulness has been fulfilled, Jean-Luc Picard,” the man said, closing the gap between them even more until they were face to face. “You and the crew of the Enterprise were handpicked for this…mission, as we knew no other starship could do the job justice.” 

Picard’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and confusion. 

“And you performed wonderfully, please don’t misunderstand,” the young man continued. “But as I said, your usefulness to us has been fulfilled and unfortunately, we no longer have any need for your services.” 

Jean-Luc Picard had been an officer for a very long time and in that time, a Starfleet officer and that of a Starfleet captain, gain invaluable instincts that can later become a certain sixth sense. In moments of danger, these instincts – this sixth sense – can kick and literally save the life of the ship, the crew, and even the captain. 

At that precise moment, Picard’s senses kicked in, causing him to reach out to grapple with the younger man’s own arm. In that hand was a small phaser that the mysterious man had snuck in – or was given – just before entering Picard’s cell. While the captain himself did not want to be hit by an errant blast, his training and knowledge of Starfleet pushed the information that if an unauthorized phaser blast goes off within a Starfleet facility, it immediately sets up proximity alarms, causing security personnel to respond to the area that the blast came from. 

The two men struggled with the weapon before two blasts escaped from the phaser. Unfortunately, whoever this assassin was or the people he worked for, obviously knew about the alarms; even when a third blast went off and despite the echo they caused, no alarms were sounded or even resonated within the brig. 

The men grappled, wrestled, and fought for the weapon, until an upper cut knocked Picard back and on to the floor, a bit dazed as he watched the man hover above him. The look on the man’s face was malevolent, cold, calculating; it was completely focused on the act of murdering one Jean-Luc Picard, former captain of the Enterprise. 

For this one captain, the goal here was probably not further engagement in the physical sense, but Picard was not known as a negotiator for nothing. If brute strength was not going to work, words possibly would. “Do I at least get to know the reason for my death?” he asked, moving back towards the nearby wall behind him. 

The assassin smirked. “You know better than to ask that, Picard,” he responded. “Besides, I’ve already told you.” 

“You’ve told me nothing!” Picard spat. “Only that my crew and I have been used for some purpose that I can’t begin to fathom.” 

“Surely you can understand the very basics of politics, Picard,” the man said. “You participate in them, even if you don’t believe so. The Federation hangs on the verge of collapse, in case you weren’t aware. My organization is doing something that Starfleet is too afraid to do. And with your help, we’ve made it possible so that we don’t die. Your sacrifice, Captain, does not go without reward.” 

“I just won’t be around to see it.” 

“That is correct.” The mysterious assassin prepared his aim and readied to fire. 

Picard was not afraid to die, not exactly, but he looked to death the way any explorer would; in that, it would be another adventure, an adventure in which he would see his lost loved ones or those he had once traveled with. In the most courageous of acts, he would go down with his ship, saving the lives of his crew members and his friends; not in such a way that he could not defend himself, that he was about to die in the name of some cause that he knew not. 

“Hey!” 

“You in there!” 

The shouting that seemed to be coming from behind them, causing the mysterious man to turn towards the cell door, just as it went down at the arrival of two security personnel. Faced with either death or completing his mission, the younger man went for his mission of killing Picard, however with the distraction, the captain was able to roll away and get to his feet, throwing a punch at the man as he turned. 

“Hold it right there, you!” cried one officer, two phasers readied at the man. 

The young man for his point, didn’t seem the least bit worried, only frustrated at his inability to do his job. Looking to Picard, he said, “This is not over, Captain Picard. Your Federation and Starfleet will fall and only my organization can save you.” Then, the man did something no one who stood there ever expected. 

The man melted. 

“Holy cripes!” 

As though the man was made of liquid metal, his human appearance quickly dissolved away, leaving a silver metallic goo where he stood. 

“It’s one of those changelings!” 

“Security alert! Security alert! Security breech within the brig! We’ve been infiltrated!” 

The goo moved quickly, avoiding the phaser fire that was aimed at it, by passing the two guards and supposedly anyone that was now coming to the defense of whatever was happening within the brig area. “Captain Picard, are you alright?” 

The Frenchman nodded. “Yes,” he mumbled, still in a state of utter shock. “Thank you.” 

“Bouller, what the hell is going on down there?” 

“There seems to have been an attempt on one of the prisoners, sir,” replied the lieutenant by the name of Bouller, speaking to whatever superior was above him. “Captain Jean-Luc Picard, sir. I think…I think it was a Founder or something.” 

“That’s impossible!” cried the disembodied voice. 

“Apparently not as impossible as one would believe,” Picard retorted. 

“Who is that?” 

“I am or was, Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise,” replied the Frenchman. 

“Capt. Picard!” exclaimed the voice. “Lt. Commander Louis Howell here, sir! I apologize for the gruffness, but…” 

“I understand your disbelief, Commander,” the captain said. “But I was an eye witness here and…well, perhaps we should meet. I fully understand if you wished to come down here…” 

“No worries, Captain,” said Howell. “I’ll personally get to the bottom of this. Bouller, make sure you and Llewellyn guard the captain until I get a sense of what’s going on.” 

“Yes sir!” 

Picard listened with half an ear to the conversation that went about him. This situation was getting stranger and stranger, even against some of the events they had experienced within space. A series of murders that they stood accused of, a plausible reason still unknown, and now a mysterious organization which was a part of Starfleet that apparently wanted him killed. 

Add with all of that, the appearance of a changeling as the assassin. What in the great Earth was going on? 

“How now?” he murmured. “A rat?” 

“Sir?” asked the security lieutenant, presumably the second guard named Llewellyn. 

Picard shook his head. “Just a quote I know,” he replied. “Seems to fit the events, I think.”


	10. Chapter IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The senior staff 'conveniently' comes up with a rescue plan, only to be thwarted. Meanwhile, a secret meeting takes place that underscores the seriousness of the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! My sincere apologies about not posting this before the end of the year. We're actually coming up to the point when I actually need to start working on this again, so hopefully another year won't go by before you see the conclusion! LOL
> 
> Thanks to all the kudos! Would definitely like to see some comments to make sure I'm hitting the ball in the ball park (or out of the park, which is a good thing); hope everyone's 2016 is off to a great start. And here is your next chapter!

##  **Chapter IX**

 

 

After the discovery that their only lead had somehow disappeared, the mood in Sickbay had quickly deteriorated into another round of hopelessness.

And that made Deanna Troi angry.

Just when she felt that they were getting closer to solving this strange mystery they had somehow stumbled in to, it seemed fate had ways of keeping them from the truth.

They all stood in Beverly’s office, until Will’s suggestion that they perhaps convene somewhere that wasn’t as public as the medical area – even if it was and decided to head to what had been the XO’s personal quarters.

“Now what?” had been the first thing the Betazed had said since that morning’s excursion in the holodeck.

To be truthful, Deanna had truly thought this would have been an easy mission to accomplish. It seemed just to be a simple miscommunication between them and the Orosians; it didn’t explain that video of them committing murder, but the counselor just could not believe this was actually happening.

There must be a simple explanation of the events in which the senior staff found themselves and unfortunately at the moment, Deanna – and the others – couldn’t decipher one, nor could they find someone who could offer them one.

Her question had been uttered in frustration, but Troi couldn’t think of any other way for it to come out.

“What can we do?” huffed the Klingon, who characteristically folded his arms against his chest.

“Well we have to do something!” Beverly insisted. “I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t want to have this hanging over my head for the rest of my life.”

“I believe I have a solution to our problems.”

Everyone turned to the android, curious as to what he might have in mind. “Well Data?” asked Will.

“While the simulation on the holodeck did not prove to be as fruitful as I had hoped,” Data began. “It did provide another possible avenue in which we could explore.”

“Such as?”

“I believe our next course of action would be to visit Starbase 97.”

“Starbase 97?” asked Beverly.

“The proverbial scene of the crime, yes.”

“How will that help?” Geordi asked. “And what makes you think that we’d actually be able to get on the base again?”

“Geordi,” the android began, turning to look at the engineer. “All of the evidence is clearly pointing to the last place that we all remember being. Not only that, but in order to find the person who served us the drinks on the night in question, it is best if we start from his last known appearance, which so happens to coincide with _our_ last appearance together as well.”

“Data’s right,” Will responded. “The only way to get to the bottom of this is to speak to that waiter. And if the last place he was seen was on SB 97, then we need to head out there and talk to anyone who might have any information. Now the big question is – how’re we going to get there?”

Almost immediately, everyone looked at him as though the answer had completely passed by him. The answer seemed very clear indeed – the Enterprise was one of the fastest ships in the fleet currently and possibly the only one that was readily available due to the war with the Dominion.

It was a no brainer that taking their ship was the obvious course.

“I hope we aren’t all thinking the same thing here,” the commander responded slowly, not surprised that everyone had the same thought on their minds.

“Commander, it’s simple,” Geordi replied. “It should be easy enough to get a skeleton crew on board, just enough to work in Engineering, and I know people who would love to help out in this.”

“Hey wait a minute…”

“Geordi, that’s brilliant!” exclaimed the doctor. “And I’m sure I could get Alyssa and some others to help out in Sickbay in case we ran into anything.”

“Hey…”

“We may need security…” Worf began. “And I am certain I could persuade some of the security force to join us.”

“We would also have to devise a way to retrieve the captain,” Data mentioned.

“Of course we’d have to get Jean-Luc,” Beverly added. “Is that even possible?”

“Anything is possible, Doctor.”

“Hey!” Will shouted, finally getting the attention of his fellow conspirators. “Now look,” he began, once he was sure he had everyone’s undivided attention. “I’m all for an old fashioned jailbreak, but are you serious? You want to just take the Enterprise? From Starfleet Headquarters? Tell me you aren’t serious.”

“And why not?” Deanna said, her voice laced with uncharacteristic anger. “Even you can’t agree with this, Will. This whole thing is…is…a travesty of justice, is what it is.”

“Deanna…”

“Well, I for one am sick of it,” the brunette continued. “I am well aware that there is a war going on, but that in no way means that we get pushed aside in our time of need. There is something more going on here, that we are well aware of. This is obviously much bigger than the captain sitting in Starfleet’s brig or even us losing our careers; and I think it’s high time we find out what that is.”

“We cannot leave the captain to this fate,” Worf began.

“Worf is correct,” Data added. “Captain Picard has done many things in order to help us and the crew of the Enterprise. It would not only be unfortunate, but…disloyal to not extend the same curtesy.”

“It is…dishonorable.”

“The Enterprise is our ship,” the counselor continued. “It’s our _home_ and Captain Picard is _our_ captain. We have to get to the bottom of this.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Will said. “I agree with everything said.”

“As I knew you would,” joked the counselor.

Will couldn’t help but smile at the jib. “Exactly,” he countered. “As the… _former_ first officer of the Enterprise, it’s my job to play devil’s advocate. Most importantly, it’s my job as your friend – “ here he looked at everyone assembled. “ – to make sure you all don’t jump off the deep end of crazy.”

“The deep end of crazy?” Data asked, perplexed.

“An expression, Mr. Data,” Riker chuckled. “Just means I don’t want you all to do anything random.”

“Ah!” The android replied, nodding in understanding. “Well, seeing as this entire situation that we now face is…in the deep end of crazy, I say we are right at home.”

“I stand corrected,” the commander said. “So what exactly is our crazy plan to not only get the Enterprise, but break the captain out of stir?”

“Stir?” Data asked. His confusion quickly morphed into understanding as his databases supplied him with the definition. “Ah, a euphemism for jail. Right. As Geordi mentioned, there are still officers on the Enterprise who are loyal to the captain and us; ultimately, Geordi and I, with perhaps help from both Lt. Worf and Dr. Crusher, will get those members of the crew to assist us in gaining entrance onto the ship. In the meantime, Geordi and I will go to the Starfleet brig; Lt. Masters knows the ensign that should be on duty and as luck would have it, she happens to have not only an interest in science and engineering, but of the chief engineer and science officer.

“While Geordi is busy distracting the ensign, I shall trigger a low grade computer virus that will interfere with the force fields to the cells.” The android held up a hand when he saw the protest that Riker was about to lodge. “It will only be the force field to the captain’s cell,” Data amended. “At that time, someone will beam in – unnoticed, of course – and then beam out with the captain.

“Once the captain is safely onboard, Geordi and I will take our leave.”

“What happens if it _doesn’t_ work?” Deanna asked. “As in, what if we’re unable to actually rescue the captain?”

“In the event of that,” Data began. “We can give keywords for someone to contact the ensign on duty. For example, if the captain has arrived safely, Commander Riker can send a message that everything has gone according to plan; if the captain has not be able to be beamed aboard, the commander will send a message that Geordi and I need to return to the Enterprise.

“However, I have concluded that we have an 82.79% chance of success, whereby the captain will be successfully transported back to the coordinates of our choosing, right before we all sit down for a nice cup of tea.”

“Klingons do not drink tea.”

Data shot the lt. commander a look of annoyance before amending his statement to, “Then the captain will be successfully transported right before we all sit down for a nice cup of our chosen beverage.”

Will couldn’t help but look at the second officer and the chief engineer in admiration and a bit of surprise too. “You two have thought this out, haven’t you?”

“The thought just came to us, actually,” Data responded. “Sir.”

“Terrible liar, Data.”

“Still?”

“Just isn’t in your nature, Data,” Beverly chuckled.

 

* * *

 

True to the plan that had just ‘conveniently’ occurred to them, former commanding officer of the USS Enterprise Will Riker did indeed find officers that were more than willing to help pull off this grand plan, even if it seemed a bit last minute.

As always, Will was quite impressed with the lengths that the crew of the Enterprise would go in regards to helping or even saving one of their own. Some of the junior officers, those that had only been onboard for less than a year, sometimes even a month, didn’t understand the devotion that the crew had to each other and that of the ship they lived on.

But that was the legacy of the Enterprise. When other crews sailed on for bright pastures, those who had the privilege of being assigned to the Enterprise rarely left, even when opportunities to join other crews presented themselves.

For Riker, he had come aboard the recommissioned Enterprise-D with those of leaving the ship after a tour of duty in order to be placed in the seat of his own captain’s chair. He of course had no idea that his decision to be the executive officer on one of the premiere starships in the fleet would mean serving with his ex, an android, a Klingon, and a blind helmsman.

Nor could he have ever imagined the adventures they would go through and he certainly hadn’t be thinking he’d turn down those coveted positions of captain for the next fourteen years or that he would find the best friends – the best family – that a man could ask for in his crewmates.

There had of course been times in which the crew had found themselves up against something that was out to destroy them. The parade of alien life, Romulans, Klingons, Borg, evil siblings, evil children…there was a long list, but they had always managed to get out it. Sure, there were times in which the damage was so great that he wondered about the lasting impact of things, but overall, they managed to overcome even the most evil and vilest of plots.

This was one of the reasons that this latest adventure of theirs didn’t truly worry him, though he could admit to himself that he was feeling uneasy about the whole thing. Perhaps it was because he was already a fairly optimistic kind of guy, but Will fully believed that things would work for them.

After all, fate always seemed to come through when they least expected it.

Will was hoping that fate would show itself sometime soon. In the midst of setting up what they were calling ‘the operations’, the group had unofficially deemed the former XO’s quarters as a home base of sorts, bringing together all of the information they had gathered and for further planning.

The commander had just learned some news that could potentially put their plans on hold. Making his way to his quarters, the bearded officer tried to think of a way in which he could break the news gently or at least politely so that it wouldn’t doom all that they were working for.

Entering, he wasn’t surprised to see Deanna and Data already inside, probably getting as much information as they could. As much as he didn’t want to bring this up, it wasn’t really in his nature to not be straight forward.

And it was obvious that from Deanna’s look, she had some idea that something was wrong.

“We have a problem.”

“Sir?”

“There’s a bit of a snag with your plan, Data,” Will commented.

“Which plan?” the android asked. “Operation Starship or Operation Jailbreak?”

“Jailbreak,” was the immediate answer, though Will made a note to himself to ask when they had given separate names to their operations.

“Actually, there may be an issue with both,” he continued. “We need to call a meeting.”

 

* * *

 

“There was an attempt on the captain’s life.”

It only took a few moments before the others arrived in Commander Riker’s quarters, each wondering what the urgency of the message could possibly be. Will waited until the door shut behind Beverly before he made his announcement.

“What!?”

“I just heard reports as I was making my way through Ten Forward,” he continued. “Apparently, it’s all the news down at Starfleet.”

“How is that possible?” questioned Worf. “Starfleet has the most secure holding facility in the Alpha quadrant. Someone was obviously not doing their job.”

“On the contrary,” Riker smirked. “They were. The last person to see the captain was a Starfleet officer.”

“An inside job?” Geordi asked, shocked.

“Apparently.”

“Why would someone in Starfleet wish to kill the captain?” Data wondered. “The act in itself has no logical bearings what so ever.”

“Maybe they wanted the captain out of the way,” pondered the doctor.

“For what reason?” Deanna asked.

“Information?” asked Geordi.

“About what?” the counselor persisted. “The Orosians?”

“Perhaps it was a warning,” Will supplied. “That the captain knows something he shouldn’t.”

“Or perhaps it was a warning for us,” Worf added. “That maybe we are getting close to the answer to all of this.”

“But we don’t know anything!” exclaimed La Forge. “We haven’t even _touched_ a fraction of what this could be about.”

“I have a more pressing question,” Beverly replied, turning to look at Will. “Where’s Jean-Luc now?”

“I don’t know,” the commander shrugged. “There lies another problem. Because of the attempt, he’s been moved to a more secure location that no one is allowed to know. I was able to get in touch with Admiral Nechayev, and while she was very sympathetic to our plight, she wouldn’t budge on telling me where they’re holding him now.”

The tension in the room was that of shocked silence; this was a complication that no one could have possibly foreseen. “Great,” muttered the chief engineer. “Where do we go from here?”

“This does put a considerable dent in our plans,” Data mumbled.

“You think!?”

“So…” Beverly whispered. “Is this it? We’re done?”

“We may not be able to save the captain at this time,” Data began. “But there is still a possibility that we may be able to get to Starbase 97. We just will not be able to employ the use of the Enterprise.”

“What’re you thinking, Data?” Deanna asked.

“At this rate, it seems clear that there may be agents within Starfleet that are trying to halt the discovery of the truth,” the android continued.

“You mean someone in Starfleet is a traitor,” Worf stated.

“Or Starfleet has been infiltrated,” Data elaborated. “In any case, the attempt at taking the Enterprise is surely an unmountable task; the ship is too big of a target. However…”

“However?”

“However, there are smaller transports that we can use at our disposal.”

“A runabout,” Will responded, immediately catching on to Data’s idea. “Can we get one from the ship?”

“It is possible,” Data said. “There would of course have to be a reason as to why a runabout from the Enterprise would need to leave the ship. Fortunately, there happens to be a science and engineering forum that is taking place on Helios 7. I am quite confident that it be imperative that at least one of head of the departments were to be involved in that. And then just…conveniently get lost. On purpose of course.”

“It’ll be tight,” Geordi said. “But it’ll work. A few minor adjustments and we might get it up to Warp 6, but I won’t make any promises. It’ll take us a while to get to SB 97, but we can make it.”

“That’s all we need,” Will replied. “This attack on the captain doesn’t feel right, probably because it _isn’t_ right. We’ll just have to hope that he’s okay where he is. In the meantime, we have to keep wraps on this, especially in light of what’s happened.

“Either way, someone is trying to put a stop to our plans and we can’t let that happen. Data, Geordi, do whatever you can – within reason – to get us a runabout. I also need to know how long it’ll take to get to Starbase 97.

“Beverly, I want to make sure we don’t run into any trouble, so I think we all need to stop by Sickbay for an ‘annual’ physical. Deanna, Worf, I want to know more about Oros, especially the Dominion controlled side of that planet.”

Will gave them all a look that he hoped channeled all those times that the captain had told them of a mission of great importance. “I don’t want anyone getting wind of this,” he said. “Make up whatever story you need to, but make it convincing. From this point on, we’re on our own.”

 

* * *

 

In a darkened bar, on an unknown planet, various species sat around, drinking. Or rather, to the casual observer it would look as though they were just enjoying a drink after a hard day’s work; in reality, however, there were more secrets and backroom deals that were going on than one could ever imagine.

The bar had no official name, however those that sat within it knew it by The Smuggler’s Moon, so called because of the clientele that the bar catered to. There were other such bars, on other such planets that would house those unreputable and unsavory characters that were looking for the next quick buck or who had something of value to sell, but this bar in particular was one that was so unknown to just the run of the mill smuggler, hijacker, or common criminal – this was a _professional’s_ bar.

The room itself was fairly small, with about three or four backrooms that were strictly for private talks and/or parties, while the outer room held a standard bar and several tables. The atmosphere was dark, the lightening low to hide the faces of those that frequented it, to protect their identity or their trade, it wasn’t known.

At a table near the back of the room sat three individuals – a human, a Vulcan, and an unidentifiable alien race. In any other bar, this combination might be a familiar sight or could be one that was completely unheard of, but here in the Moon, no one ever asked questions.

All three wore cloaks in order to keep themselves hidden, however the pointed ears of the Vulcan were easily seen, though he kept the rest of his body covered. Each had a drink in front of them, but it was clear that they had been drained of their contents or neither man had bothered to drink from the glasses before them.

“I have news,” stated the human, his voice gruff and graveled, as though he hadn’t gotten much sleep. “The attempt on Picard failed and now, who knows what that crew of his will do.”

“They are Starfleet officers,” replied the Vulcan. “They have been acquitted of the crime and have received new orders. They will do their duties and report for their new assignments.”

“You don’t know nor understand Picard’s people,” the human hissed, vehemently. “Don’t you read any of the reports that come in about the Enterprise? These are the same people who defied the admiralty just to move a couple hundred people from a planet; who defied orders not to engage the Borg and ended going back in time.

“If they’ve found out about Picard – and I’m sure they have – they might be getting closer to us than we want.”

“I believe that you worry too much,” the Vulcan countered. “However, if you were so concerned about this crew’s loyalty, then why did you agree to this plan of action?”

“I didn’t and you know it!”

“Gentlemen,” the alien replied. “The reason for employing the Enterprise was very clear and very important. As you said yourself, Admiral, Capt. Picard is a born diplomat and as such, would have been instrumental in these negotiations. The Enterprise was essential.

“If what you say is true, then we must prepare for the rest of the crew to show themselves on Oros. And if that is the case, then we must also prepare for the inevitable case in which they will begin to delve deeper into the mystery.”

“Damned arrogance,” muttered the human. “Do you have any idea how many crews get strung up in a court martial and many of them are thankful that they aren’t sitting in the brig? And here they acting as though Starfleet owes them something.”

“I fear that your emotions are getting the better of you,” the Vulcan commented. “Sir.”

“Again,” the alien said, interrupting whatever sentence that the Admiral was about to retort. “The Enterprise was essential in this endeavor. The Dominion, and thus the Founders, cannot complete their objectives if they stand in our way. Starfleet and the Federation will soon fall and we will not tolerate failure in which the Dominion does not rule this galaxy.

“Whatever plans this crew has, they will need to be stopped. And we will need to make sure that are agents who will stop them.”


	11. Chapter X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lower decks move up in rank, sparking conversation as to why. Meanwhile, in the aftermath of their JAG meeting, Data goes about trying to discover their whereabouts during the incident, with no success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for not updating this sooner, especially when we are now caught up to where I am in the writing.
> 
> This is the - I think - last flashback chapter. All chapters afterward will be in the present time, with our crew trying to get to the bottom of things.

##  **Chapter IX**

 

 

_Past_

_After thirty minutes had passed since leaving the observation lounge, did Captain Jean-Luc Picard give the announcement that the Enterprise was returning to Starfleet Headquarters and that of Earth. The rest of the crew was understandably confused as to the change of destination, especially when no one had seen any member of the senior bridge officers in over a week._

_The Enterprise, despite its size and maximum amount of crew onboard, was still a very tight ship and crew, even when this new class of starship did not allow for families due to the war. It was very rare that no one knew what went on, even if it was speculation. In this matter, however, even the senior most junior officers didn’t know what was going on._

_And it was such a strange occurrence! There were very few times in which the captain didn’t notify his crew on what their course and heading was and extremely rare for none of the other bridge officers to tell their charges what was happening. No one in any department had seen their heads in quite some time and that was disturbing. Even if Engineering didn’t see Geordi La Forge for a day, it was inconceivable that no one had seen Lt. Commander Data either and that was cause for alarm._

_Lt. Leslie Shaw was of course worried. As an officer primarily in the science department, she was used to seeing Data on a daily basis just about and the fact that she hadn’t seen him in several days was a bit alarming. She and a couple of other officers - including Alyssa Ogawa Powell from Sickbay, Lt. Peter Gross from communications, Ensign Darvel Mickelssen from Engineering, and Ensign J’Bor Marli from security - had found a table in the popular bar and ship hangout of Ten Forward. “Tell me you’ve heard something,” asked the science officer, looking around her in hopes of getting some answers._

_“Depends on what you want,” Mickelssen, often called Mickey, replied. “You want facts or scuttlebutt? Facts, we don’t have; scuttlebutt, we do.”_

_“I wish I could say it’s usual not to see Dr. Crusher in sickbay,” Alyssa began. “But then I’d be lying. In fact, it’s rare that I don’t see her.”_

_“Well,” J’Bor said, leaning in closer to the group. “Scuttlebutt in security says that the senior staff is confined to quarters.”_

_“Why?” asked Alyssa._

_The Bolian shrugged, before looking to Lt. Gross, who took up the story. “Communications states that that one of those Orosians sent a message to Starfleet, encrypted of course, asking for some sort of legal advice and Ellie Swanson was in transporter 2 when someone from the JAG showed up.”_

_“As in Starfleet JAG?” Mickey asked, stunned. “What the hell?”_

_“It has something to do with those Orosians,” J’Bor stated. “You remember…they’re on a Dominion planet and they wanted help.”_

_“That doesn’t explain why the judge advocate office needs to be onboard,” Alyssa countered._

_“Doesn’t it?” asked Gross. “I had a roommate who went through JAG and he had to learn all about the procedures and policies on setting up a planet for Federation membership.”_

_“So then why are we heading back to Earth?” Leslie asked. “I hardly doubt the Enterprise needs to be there for the signing.” The young woman shook her head. “No, there’s something else. Have any of you seen the senior staff? I know the captain keeps to himself, but I haven’t seen Data or Geordi in at least a week and for Data, that’s a bit disturbing.”_

_“That’s because you have a crush on him,” Mickey joked, causing Leslie to blush._

_“Les is right,” Alyssa said. “I haven’t seen Dr. Crusher either and that is not normal. How good is that security rumor?”_

_Again, J’Bor shrugged. “As good as any scuttlebutt,” he replied. “But…I do know that Bucky was fit to be tied earlier. Seems he discovered prisoners sitting in the brig and wasn’t told about it.”_

_“What prisoners?” asked Peter._

_“I dunno,” the Bolian said. “But you know how he’s been sick and then having to take over for Lt. Daniels…he really expected for someone to tell him and no one did.”_

_The group was silent for a moment until the arrival of another lieutenant by the name of Bill Folger, who also worked in Engineering. He had apparently spotted them and quickly made his way towards them and leaning across the table. “So guess what?” he whispered, waiting until the others awaited for him to speak again. “Guess who just got promoted to taking over for Geordi in Engineering?”_

_The others began to shook their heads until Alyssa looked at the man and asked, “You?”_

_Folger nodded, a grimace on his face. “Chief pulled me aside a little bit ago,” he said. “Said until further notice, I had Engineering in my hands. Made sure to tell me not to break anything either while he was gone.”_

_“Where’s he going?” asked Gross._

_“Don’t know,” he said. “But he did say not to be surprised if a lot of relief was gonna move up this week.”_

_Alyssa opened her mouth to say something, when she received a call over her comm badge. “Crusher to Ogawa.”_

_“Ogawa here.”_

_“Alyssa, can I see you in Sickbay for a moment? It won’t take long.”_

_“Sure,” the nurse replied, looking at her companions. “I’ll be right there.”_

_“See?” Folger said, acknowledging the nurse._

_“She is a nurse, you know,” Leslie pointed out, however Folger shook his head._

_“Alyssa’s replacing the doctor, I’m replacing Geordi…I even heard Lt. Styles is going to be doing bridge duty, in order to cover for Cmdr. Riker and Capt. Picard.”_

_The group looked at each other, the news of these appointments coming as complete surprise and shock._

_“What is going on?” asked Mickey._

 

* * *

 

 _Being confined to quarters, for Lt. Commander Data, was most certainly a good excuse to get some work done. Despite the emotional turmoil that he was experiencing, not only from his emotion chip but that of the situation at hand, Data felt the best way to be confined was to be productive._

_After leaving the observation lounge, Data entered his quarters with the intense need to destroy something. While the emotion chip was supposed to help give him a better and more complete understanding of human behavior – and that of his human friends and shipmates – the android had found that trying to control these new feelings and sensations could be more than he could take._

_Those first few years of having the chip installed has exposed him to emotions that he had sometimes seen in others, but had never experienced himself. Because of this, there were many that often times left him confused, conflicted, or immensely worried in the aftermath. One of these feelings was that of rage and anger, one of those emotions that he had expressed previously to the chip’s implementation into his neural net._

_The first time the android had ever felt anger – true, deep anger – was when he had been controlled by his brother Lore. At the time, however, his killing of a Borg drone was not yet linked to his identical brother and he was acutely aware of the profound feeling that coursed through him at the time._

_If he was honest with himself, the aftermath of the whole thing was probably the first time he had ever felt truly guilty of something. It was a feeling that repeated itself only a year later and ironically, with the same person._

_But it was the feeling of anger that had mostly concerned him. With Lore and the Borg, Data had nearly convinced himself that anger was quite possibly the only thing, the only emotion, he would be able to feel. He was of course happy to learn that with the emotion chip fully installed, that he was able to experience the other emotions – humor, guilt, surprise, elation, worry – but always, always in the back of his mind was anger._

_That was a realization after he had been captured by the Borg Queen in Engineering. The aftermath of that mission had left him extremely conflicted on what he was feeling and what he should be feeling. On the one hand, he had done his duty to ensure that the rest of the ship had not been assimilated by the Borg and that by his deception, he was able to keep the Queen’s attention on him and on that of trying to bring him over to the Collective._

_But there was another side to that story, one he didn’t like to share and one he didn’t enjoy remembering. In order to keep the Queen’s attention on him, things had to be done. Things that, had his chip not been reactivated, he probably wouldn’t have thought much about it. If his chip had stayed off, Data knew he could have easily erased what happened and never again think about it. Unfortunately, the Queen prayed on those emotions – those very new and very real emotions – like he played violin._

_A master at control and manipulation._

_The anger that he felt in the aftermath, he couldn’t begin to explain. And there were only a few people who even knew; even Geordi – his best friend – had no idea the full depths at which he had sunk to make sure that the Enterprise could not be under Borg control._

_Deanna knew only because he had been ordered – actually ordered by the captain – that he should see her. Data had surprised even himself with his utter reluctance at seeing the counselor; the only other person besides Geordi that he often turned to in regards to human emotion._

_Their sessions had not been productive, quite the opposite. Deanna had more than once mentioned that he seemed to be blocking her help, compounded only by the fact that Deanna herself was still getting used to the emotional component that now made up her friend._

_Of everyone on board, Data was the one person that the counselor could not sense emphatically, so when those few moments in which the android did have emotions –like with Lore or Leo Graves – it was such a jolt that it sometimes took a moment to adjust to it._

_In handling an android who wished to be human, Deanna had to approach Data differently from how she approached her other patients, in that sometimes things needed to be explained to Data in such a way as to help him understand the emotional context to a problem._

_In handling an android who now could feel human emotion, it was almost like handling a teenager that was going through the emotional changes that took place as they grow into adulthood._

_With all its ups and downs._

_Sessions between Data and Deanna could suddenly turn into shouting matches or snide remarks around each other, something that the rest of the crew had never seen from either of them before._

_He had once even accused her of mentally stalking him._

_Data had coped with the increasing rage by turning off his emotion chip as often as possible, especially when his mind began to turn towards the Borg or…her. Deanna had of course advised against it, stating that if he wanted to fully experience human behavior and emotion, he had to take the good, the bad, and all that went with it._

_It had taken him a long while to learn how to cope with the angry thoughts and feelings he could now feel and express; one thing that he had enjoyed was removing the equipment and alcoves from the Borg collective’s presence in Engineering._

_Or rather, he enjoyed destroying anything that remotely reminded of his time there. When he had mentioned it to the counselor in one of their sessions, she had been quite happy about it._

_“Data,” she had said. “There is nothing wrong with being angry, especially after what’s happened. I would rather you face the fact that you are angry instead of denying that anger.”_

_And now, standing at the threshold within his quarters, the second officer wondered if destroying something would indeed be effective here. After some debate, he realized that destruction was not the due course of action, but it was investigation. And in order to be any type of effective investigator, he needed to think unimpeded by the emotions that were going through him. Knowing that he would eventually be getting a call from Cmdr. Troi – he always did when he turned off his emotion chip for an indeterminate length of time – a swift move of his head turned off the chip, allowing him to shut off his emotions._

_For the moment._

_He needed to be logically minded and while the emotion chip didn’t impede that most times, in times when he overtly stressed, he found that he could not concentrate when he needed to._

_Taking a determined stride towards his desk, Data immediately sat down and began to work._

 

* * *

 

 _One hour, forty-three seconds later, Cmdr. Data sat at his desk, more confused than ever in regards to recent events._

_He had spent his time hoping to find more information about their current predicament, more importantly what had been their actions from the time they had left Starbase 97 to the apparent murder of both the Orosian ambassador and that of their crewmates._

_The results were troubling to say the least._

_Sitting back in his chair, the second officer tried to contemplate what his and ultimately their next move could possibly be. The sound of his door chime only caused him to glance at the door. He had a feeling he knew who wanted entrance into his quarters._

_“Enter.”_

_Not surprising in the least, Deanna made her way inside and towards his desk, giving him a small smile when he looked up. “You are late,” he responded._

_“Oh?”_

_“You usually check up on me on the hour mark,” he explained, a small grin on his face. “You are forty-six minutes late.”_

_“Ah,” the counselor nodded, understanding his joke. He had once accused her of using her empathic abilities to stalk him, that out of everyone on the ship who had suffered with the Borg, she was keeping mental tabs on him, knowing the very minute he turned off his emotion chip._

_While at the time it had been a harsh thing for him to say and perhaps an even harsher thing for her to do, time had turned in the incident into an inside joke between them. Data knew Deanna hadn’t meant any malice in checking on him; if anything it had proven that his friends on the Enterprise were indeed his friends and that they had been extremely worried about him and his erratic behavior._

_“I’ve moved the time to two hours,” was her reply. “So technically, I’m early.”_

_“Ah,” Data responded, echoing her earlier statement of understanding. “Actually, Commander, I am glad you stopped by. I believe I owe you an apology. I am afraid my…emotional response to our current situation caused me to lash out at you; I did not mean to imply that you were somehow wrong in interpreting Constable Snerrub’s accusations.”_

_Deanna waved off his apology. “Data,” she began, coming around the desk to stand before him. “I already know you and the others didn’t mean what you said. I know you weren’t mad or upset because I knew the ambassador wasn’t lying; you were upset with the fact that he was telling the truth. The very prospect that anyone of us could do…”_

_She trailed off with a sigh, before shaking her head. “The very thought of it is disturbing,” she finished._

_“It may only get worse.”_

_That statement caused the Betazoid to look at the android. “Dare I ask what you mean?”_

_“Since our confinement,” the officer began. “I decided to investigate whether the claims of the constable were indeed correct.”_

_“You found something.” It was a statement and not the question it was intending to be._

_“One of the first things that I checked was whether or not I was indeed on board the Enterprise at the moment that I was supposed to be in Engineering,” he began. “Whenever I am on the ship, the warp core leaves an electromagnetic signal on my servo fluids; I have gone over the time period from the date of the banquet to that of today.”_

_“And?” Deanna asked, with rapt attention._

_“On the date of the banquet, I was not onboard the Enterprise for three hours and twenty-seven minutes,” Data continued. “That coincides with the time that we were on Starbase 97. However, because of the signal traces that track my whereabouts, I should be able to determine my location at any given moment with the ship’s computer.”_

_“Data,” the counselor said. “Are you telling me that you’ve managed to trace your signature to Engineering?”_

_“No, Counselor,” he replied, showing her the computer screen. “Quite the opposite. In trying to determine my exact location on the ship, I found the very task to be difficult.” Pointing to the screen he currently had up – that of an Ensign George Merritt – he continued with, “I can bring up the exact location of everyone currently assigned on the Enterprise.”_

_He turned to give her a look. “Except for seven people.”_

_“The senior staff,” she answered, with a look of her own. “So then were we not on the ship?”_

_“It is not the issue of being on the ship,” the android countered. “It is the issue of where we were on the ship. For instance, Ensign Merritt was in his quarters from 22:34 until the next morning, when he begin his duties in Astrophysics at 09:30._

_“Geordi, however, was supposed to be in Engineering after we met the delegation from Oros, at 1500 hours, while you were supposed to be in a counseling session thirty minutes before that.”_

_“I remember that,” Deanna murmured. “That appointment, I mean. It was supposed to be with Lt. Herriman; it was a little last minute because of the banquet and meeting with the Orosians, but I put him at 14:30. Remember? We were scheduled for a session and I pushed it back an hour.”_

_“Exactly,” Data nodded. “However…” His fingers flew over his controls to pull up three different time index profiles – his, Deanna’s, and Geordi’s._

_Upon first glance, Deanna couldn’t actually see any difference between the three until Data also pulled up the profile of Merritt. Again, it took the commander a moment before she saw the connection._

_There was no information on whereabouts of the three senior officers._

_While Merritt’s profile clearly listed the exact data, the exact time, and the exact location of where he had been the next morning, the same could not be true of her own profile, nor Geordi’s or Data’s._

_The only listing was that of the three being on the ship in general._

_“Why don’t we have the same information listed?” she whispered._

_“I do not know.”_

_“Does this work in our favor or against it?”_

_“Unfortunately,” the second officer said. “This actually does nothing to help our case, nor does it do anything to hurt it. We were all clearly on the Enterprise, but there’s no indication of where we were on the Enterprise. Perhaps we were off murdering the crew -”_

_Deanna shot him a look at that._

_“Or perhaps we were off reenacting **Richard the III** in Ten Forward, I do not know and apparently, neither does the computer.”_

_The two contemplated this information, neither of them liking the implications. “Data,” Deanna started. “Do you remember that time when the crew lost our memories?”_

_The look she received was one of knowing, but also of incredulously; how many times had the crew lost their memories? That and the fact that Data never forgot anything, despite this situation._

_“The one with the aliens?” Again, a look, this one causing Deanna to roll her eyes in frustration. “The one where we got amnesia and were forced to fight in a war against our will?”_

_“The Satarrans?”_

_“Yes!”_

_“You think that they might be involved with the Orosians?”_

_“Maybe,” she replied. “Possibly. Or not. But remember they had the technology to erase our memories, even for a short time, to make us think we were at war with their enemies.”_

_“That is an interesting theory,” the android murmured. “And it does seem to parallel our current predicament. But why would the Orosians feel the need to contact the Satarrans?”_

_The Betazoid sighed in frustration. “I don’t know.”_

_“I fear my investigation has brought about more questions than answers.”_

_The officers chatted for a few moments before Deanna made her exit, knowing that technically they weren’t supposed to be out of their quarters. The counselor’s own observations about the Satarrans’ possible involvement in the situation was intriguing. The alien species that they had come across did indeed have the type of technology that could render complete amnesia._

_However, it had been the intervention of Dr. Crusher that brought their memories back the way they were. But still, the android couldn’t help but think about the implications. The Satarrans had been the only species that had been able to completely erase his memory, something that could only be done by someone who was familiar with his positronic matrix._

_In most situations, the second officer was usually the only person standing when it came to beings that tried to reset the crew’s memory or timeline. That brought to mind of the xenophobic aliens that they had once encountered, who would use scanning frequencies to disrupt the time and the crew’s memories in order to prevent anyone from going through their space._

_The Enterprise had been the one ship in which a person was aware of their actions and that person was Data, only because the scan did nothing on him. It had been a very long few days and a lot of explaining that kept his career in Starfleet for what was essentially a disregard for his crewmates and orders from his captain._

_Data wondered if the Orosians were the types that would conspire to prevent or even stop an ordered Starfleet mission. While the thoughts were there, the actions seemed not to make sense. For example, if the Orosians were in contact with the Satarrans, how did they come across each other?_

_And of course, what was the purpose of them being in contact with each other in the first place? The Satarrans were technologically inferior, despite their ability to change another species’ mind._

_Further contemplation would need to wait, as the chime on his door once again alert him to the fact that someone was outside. This time however, he wasn’t planning on expecting anyone. “Enter.”_

_His visitor turned out to be a young security ensign carrying a padd. “Commander Data, sir?” the ensign asked._

_“That is correct, Ensign,” replied the android. “Was there something that you needed?”_

_Holding out the padd, the ensign said, “I was sent to deliver this to you, sir.”_

_“What is it?”_

_“It’s a padd, sir,” the ensign started. “It’s a device in which you can read…”_

_“Ensign,” Data interrupted, giving the junior officer a look. “I know what a padd is, thank you. What I meant in my question was, what information is on it?”_

_“Oh!” the ensign exclaimed, his face suddenly seeming to be on fire from embarrassment. He had been scared from the word go when he had been instructed by the Vulcan officer to deliver this to the android officer._

_“Sorry, sir,” he mumbled. “It’s a summons, sir. Lt. L’Nal wanted me to deliver it to you.”_

_“A summons?”_

_“Yes sir.”_

_Taking the padd from the ensign, Data read it over. It was, as the young officer stated, a request that his presence be required to stand before the judge advocate’s office within Starfleet headquarters in order to present his testimony on recent events. Data had of course seen such a padd before – once when he had fought for the rights of artificial life forms, again in the aftermath of the Enterprise-D’s destruction, and just recently in recounting his capture by the Borg._

_He was certainly no stranger to a Starfleet summons._

_“Thank you, Ensign,” he whispered. “You are dismissed.”_

_The young officer didn’t need any more encouragement before he was turning and walking out the door. A slight movement and his emotions were rolling once more. To be honest, Data had been hoping that the whole thing was a mistake, a misunderstanding, or even a dream that he himself had made up._

_The summons of course deflated any idea of that._

_“La Forge to Data.”_

_“Data here.”_

_“You’re not gonna believe this.”_

_“If you are referring to the Starfleet mandated summons that I assume you have received,” he began. “Then you would be correct; I am not believing it, despite the fact that I hold the very thing in my hand.”_

_“Captain wants to see us,” the engineer replied. “Make sure you don’t run into anyone annoying.”_

_“Has he chosen a location?”_

_“Our favorite place,” Geordi chuckled._

_“The observation lounge it is,” the android nodded. “I am on the way.”_

 

* * *

 

 _When the second officer found his way to the observation lounge, he wasn’t surprised to see that his colleagues had managed to not only beat him there, but were already engaged in angry rants in regards to the situation._

_“Data!” the captain exclaimed, seeing the android enter. “Tell me that you’ve found something.”_

_“I have,” Data began. “But I do not believe you will like it.”_

_“That sounds ominous,” muttered Beverly._

_“As I was telling the counselor earlier,” he continued. “I was going over the locations of every crew member onboard the Enterprise from the night of the banquet until this very day. And as such, I am able to account for every single member of the crew, with exception to the seven of us.”_

_“So we weren’t on the Enterprise?” Riker asked._

_“I am not sure, Sir,” the android admitted. “The only information that I can provide is the fact that we were on the Enterprise, however I cannot provide an exact location for any of us.”_

_“That is extremely disturbing, Mr. Data,” Picard murmured. “If I remember correctly, doesn’t the warp core tend to keep track of your movements?”_

_“Yes sir,” Data said. “In a sense, my movements are inputted into the Enterprise’s computer, that is as long as I am onboard the ship. The fact that, while it does seem that we were indeed on the Enterprise, our locations cannot be accounted for present two possibilities._

_“Either the computer is damaged in some way that our locations are unable to be revealed or the computer was purposefully damaged in such a way to keep us or anyone else from finding out where we were.”_

_“That’s a disheartening conclusion, Data,” Will said._

_“Geordi,” Picard asked. “Could that be possible? Is there any way of checking Data’s hypotheses before we reach Earth?”_

_“Anything in this situation is possible, Captain,” Geordi sighed. “Normally I’d have my best team on it or I’d look myself, but with us on lockdown…well, do we really want to bring the whole ship down with us? There’s already rumors going on as to where we’ve been and why we’ve got relief shifts covering for us.”_

_“Captain,” Data said. “We can try to find if any sabotage has been done the ship’s computers, however I have the distinct feeling that we may not be able to find anything. Something this intricate…”_

_“Wouldn’t have a chance at being discovered so easily,” Will finished the thought._

_“I’m afraid I agree,” the captain sighed. “The last thing we want is to cause a panic among the crew and if Geordi’s correct, there are already rumors and speculation about that we cannot afford to be invested in. I would however like you both to try, if possible, to discover if anything has been tampered with._

_“In order for us to approach this inquest, we will need a good offense,” he continued. “In order to counter the defense that has been placed before us. Unfortunately, I too seem to be having trouble when it comes to examining that video evidence. Snerrub has made a point that I not view it and as a defendant in this case, I am under the restrictions of the judge advocate office until we are allowed counsel in order to access this charge.”_

_“So we’re stuck,” Beverly said. “Is what you’re saying.”_

_Jean-Luc opened his mouth to counter her statement, but in this case he felt that the truth was a far better thing. “Yes Beverly,” he said. “We are effectively stuck.”_


End file.
